


Ten companions... So be it !

by Lorienstale



Series: The What-If Series [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: 10th Walker, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Boromir Lives, Everyone Has Issues, Fellowship of the Ring, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, My First Fanfic, Return of the King, The Two Towers, What-If, but please give it a chance, or maybe not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 58,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23329306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorienstale/pseuds/Lorienstale
Summary: -AU-What if Boromir wasn't the only son of Denethor attending the Council of Elrond ? What if Faramir was there also ? Would the journey of the Fellowship have been any different ?Originally posted on FF.net!! New chapter coming soon !!
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel & Gimli (Son of Glóin) & Legolas Greenleaf, Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Boromir (Son of Denethor II) & Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Faramir (Son of Denethor II) & Gandalf | Mithrandir, Frodo Baggins & Sam Gamgee, Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Character(s), Merry Brandybuck & Pippin Took, Éowyn/Faramir (Son of Denethor II)
Series: The What-If Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735402
Comments: 24
Kudos: 66





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first Fanfic ever so feel free to tell me if there are any mistakes or things I could improve !  
> Also, I am not English speaking, so I apologize for the poor grammar and spelling. Please tell me if there's anything wrong !
> 
> Disclaimer : Do I really need to explain why I do not own the Lord of the Rings ???  
> Basically, the only things I own are my OCs.  
> That's it, hope you'll enjoy !

"Remember today, little brother." he told him. Then the horse turned around and ran off, taking his brother into faraway and unknown horizons. Faramir turned back, lowering his head, restraining back his tears. Why did he feel as if he wouldn't see his brother alive again ? He silently headed back to his tent, filled with fear and worry.  
"My Lord ?" a voice asked as he entered.  
"Prepare my horse," he told Deveron, his second in command, with a voice he wanted to be as assured as possible, "I am going back to Minas Tirith." 'At least I will be free from my father for awhile…' he thought. The words he had said in front of him were still haunting his mind : "The victory belongs to Faramir also." Boromir told Denethor as he had joined them, at Faramir's great displeasure, and had started to congratulate his eldest, not even giving a single glance to the youngest. At the mention of his name, the young Captain had stepped forward, placing a small smile on his lips, mostly to thank Boromir for having tried to give him some credit in their Father's eyes.  
"But for Faramir this city would still be standing."  
The words cut the air sharply, hitting the young man painfully. His smile immediately left his face, replaced by tears he felt forming in his eyes. "Were you not entrusted to protect it ?" the Steward continued unseeing or ignoring the pain in his son's eyes and the look of pure disbelief Boromir gave him.  
"I would have done but our numbers were too few, Faramir defended, his voice shaking slightly, but Denethor dismissed him without a thought.  
"Oh, too few ? You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim."  
Again, the words hit Faramir like a sharp knife into his chest. On a whim ? His men and him had fought day and night to bring the enemy down. There were just too many of them. And has he saw his soldiers taken down one by one, the Captain had chosen to sacrifice the city for his companions life. A choice he had thought wise and necessary, but that Denethor thought coward and useless.  
"Always you cast a poor reflection on me." Again, the Steward managed to hurt Faramir deeply with only words.  
"That is not my intent." he almost whispered in despair.  
Hopefully, his dear brother, once again, tried to defend him against his Father's neglect and discontentment.  
"You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will."  
'Oh, Boromir ! What will I become now that you have left ? How will I be able to handle this situation without you ? I need you, brother. More than you know…'  
As he went to take his cloak he had left on his couch, he suddenly felt as if an arrow literally pierced his chest, then another one, and a third. It was so unexpected that he involuntarily cried out in pain. He felt as if his entire torso was on fire. He looked down, expecting to see the arrows hurried deep into his flesh, but saw… Nothing. What… How… So many questions were crashing into his mind, but the pain was so blinding that he couldn't form any coherent thoughts to answer them. His head was dizzy, the entire room was spinning and he fell to his knees, just as the guards rushed in, alerted by his cry, to find their Captain apparently unharmed. They were speaking, but Faramir didn't hear anything they said. They were blurry… And why was he sweating ? He felt as if it was an effect from a blood loss, but there was nothing…  
Then here again, an arrow went deep into his torso and the young gondorian lost his battle against consciousness, absolutely unknowing of what had just happened.

"They took the little ones."  
"Keep still."  
"Frodo, where is Frodo?"  
"I let Frodo go."  
"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the ring from him."  
"The ring is beyond our reach now."  
"Forgive me, I did not see. I have failed you all."  
"You fought bravely. You have kept your honour."  
"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness. And my city to ruin."  
"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail."  
"Our people… our people…I would have followed you my brother, my captain… my King."

Faramir could only watch in silence as his brother's eyes glazed and his head fell backward. He was dead. He wanted to scream, to run for him, to hold him tight in his arms, to cry every single tear his body held, but he couldn't. He could only watch as the other man began to mourn on Boromir's limp form. 'My King' had he called him… Faramir couldn't see his face, for he stood right behind the man's back, a silent and unmoving spectator of the drama that had just played before his eyes.  
"Captain Faramir !" he heard a voice calling from far, far away.  
"Can you hear me ?"  
Slowly, the scene began to vanish, leaving him surrounded by darkness.  
"Wake up, my Lord !"  
The voice was louder this time, and the young man felt strong hands holding his arms and others gently slapping him on his cheeks.  
Slowly but surely, the young man began to lift up his eyelids, to meet one of the guard's worried gaze upon him.  
"My Lord, can you hear me ?"  
The man answered by weakly nodding his head.  
"Can you see me ?"  
"Y-Yes…"  
His voice was raspy and his throat was dry, as if he hadn't drunk anything for a very long time.  
"Are you hurt, my Lord ?"  
"N-No, I don't… Think so…"  
He had talked more than his vocal cords could bear, apparently, for he was overtook by a strong coughing fit. He felt a guard press a cup against his lips and a cool liquid being drawn in his mouth, which he swallowed eagerly.  
"M-My thanks…"  
"You're welcome. Now, what happened ? You screamed as if you were under attack."  
Then without a warning, everything came back to his mind. Boromir. Gone. Attack. Arrows. Dead… He stood up hurriedly and asked :  
"Have you made my horse ready, Deron ?"  
"But, my Lord, you are not in a proper shape to…"  
"Have you ?" he cut off, voice firm, but not mean.  
Deron looked hesitant but he still answered :  
"Y-Yes, my Lord, he is in the stables."  
"Good. Deveron ? As my second in command, you are named Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien until I return."  
Deron bowed his head and Faramir immediately rushed out of the tent and headed straight to the stables without wasting anymore time. He didn't pay any attention to the questioning looks the other soldiers gave him. His brother's life was at stake, nothing else mattered. He literally jumped on his horse's back, who was slightly startled by the sudden weigh.  
"Gwaem, Sìrdal." he whispered into his ears. Immediately, Sìrdal bolted out of his enclosure heading to the city gates.  
"Faramir ! Where do you think you are going ?" he suddenly heard his father's voice call him. But he didn't bother looking behind and kept going.  
"Ego, Sìrdal, ego !" he told his horse as felt an ounce of hesitation crossing his strong body.  
"Guards ! Stop him !"  
But it was too late, he was already out of their reach.

Faramir found his brother just the day after. He had had to hide quite often for his father had, apparently, started a research for him. One of the patrols almost caught him, once, but he had managed to lose them in the thick woods (who would have been able to track a Ranger into the forests ?).  
When he had found Boromir, the man was about to leave the small camp he had settled for the night.  
"Boromir !" he called.  
His brother turned around immediately, startled, and grabbed his sword, ready to face any enemies incoming. He relaxed when he saw the face of his brother, pale from exhaustion (he hadn't slept the entire night and hadn't completely recovered from what had happened back in Osgiliath).  
"Faramir ?" he answered the call, very surprised to see his brother had followed him. "What are you doing here ?"  
The younger man quickly dismounted and rushed to his brother to give him a tight embrace. His brother held him back, still not completely understanding what was happening.  
"What is it, brother ? You are shaking. Did something happen ?"  
"I-I… I saw…" he started, but paused, unable to let the words out of his mouth.  
"What ? What did you see ?" his brother asked, gently, like he used to do when Faramir was having nightmares when he was younger.  
"I saw you… Dead."  
His words were met with silence.  
"If you go to this quest, you will die."  
Another silence.  
"Was it a foresight ?" Boromir asked in a low voice.  
"I-It felt like it."  
They paused again. Boromir knew his brother had foresights, and also knew them to realise themself every time. But it wasn't his possible death that scared him, he was afraid for his brother… The way he was so desperately clutching his armour, his tremors… Boromir was ready to face his death, but Faramir wasn't and it would most likely break him down.  
"Don't go. Oh ! Boromir, please, don't go on this quest. I beg you. Let me go instead"  
'What ?!' Boromir thought 'You want me to let you go and die for me ?'  
Indeed, the man was afraid of what would happen to Faramir if he came to pass, but he couldn't bear letting his brother sacrifice himself in order to possibly save him.  
"Oh, Fara… I wish I could but I have to go, Father gave me a mission. And he needs you with him, and…" he took a breath before adding "I don't want you to put yourself in danger, I don't want you to give your life for me."  
"Then let me come. You heard Father. He knows my uses and, apparently, they are few. He doesn't need me. Just give me a chance to avoid this…" he retorted, voice full of resentment towards the Steward.  
Boromir still hesitated for some long seconds. But eventually, he realised that, whatever he might do, there would be no way to get his brother to go back home without him, and he couldn't just abandon the mission his Father had entrusted him to do…  
"You protect me and I protect you, then… Fine, we'll go together."  
"Thank you." his brother answered, voice filled with relief.

Menib : Let's go

Meno : Go


	2. Rivendell

"You are no Elf," the man simply said after having observed the other sitting in a chair before him.

"Men of South are welcome here," he answered him, rather mysteriously.

"Who are you ?"

"I am a friend to Gandalf the Grey."

"Then we are here on common purpose... Friend," the man stated, before walking toward an elvish statue carrying a sword, broke in six different pieces.

"The shards of Narsil," he barely whispered while grabbing the sword handle and lifting it right in front of his eyes in contemplation and continued :

"The blade that cut the ring from Sauron's hand…"

The man looked completely hypnotized by the relic he was holding. His finger seemed almost attracted by the blade as he slowly ran his finger over it.

"Ah !" the slight cry escaped his lips as he cut himself with the sword.

"It's still sharp."

He noticed the other man was studying him quite intently as if trying to read his mind, so he put the sword handle back on the statue and took a step back.

"But no more than a broken heirloom." he sharply added in resignation before walking away, letting the blade fall on the ground. But as he passed under a stone arch, he was met by a third man who looked very similar to him, though a bit younger.

"Ah ! There you are, brother. I was wondering where you had left."

He stopped in front of his brother, but didn't answer.

"Boromir ? Is everything alright ? You look as if you've seen a ghost." the newcomer asked him, sounding rather concerned. Boromir, simply put a hand on his shoulder and mysteriously told him :

"The past will always be there to haunt us, little brother, no matter how hard we try to get over it."

With that, he patted his brother's shoulder and got away, leaving him quite confused behind.

"Where are you going ?" Faramir asked, quite troubled by the man's behaviour.

"To rest. It's been a long ride to get here." he answered, not even facing him.

I suppose you have met my brother," Faramir finally said to the man behind him, who had put the sword back in place, after a long silence.

"I have indeed, yes."

"My apologies. He doesn't seem in his right state of mind."

"There is nothing to apologize for."

The younger man simply bowed his head in gratitude and there was a long minute where none of the men spoke. Faramir only stared at the man who had retrieved back his book and continued his reading. He seemed so familiar to him, and yet... He couldn't remember meeting him. He felt himself blush slightly in shame as the stranger stared back at him, a questioning look on his face.

"My apologies, my Lord, but you are not known to me, yet I cannot help but feel that we have met before." the young man immediately answered.

The man frowned, as if thinking of something and eventually answered :

"I'm afraid I cannot remember meeting you before today, Faramir, son of Denethor, but I have been a close friend to your grandfather, Ecthelion."

"You… You are the one they called Thorongil ?"

"I am."  
Faramir shyly bowed his head at Thorongil in amazement. Surely the man looked much younger than what he had imagined.  
"It is an honor, my Lord."  
"The honor is mine, Captain of Gondor."  
"How did you recognize me anyway, if you say we haven't met before ?"  
The man pointed him his pauldron with his chin, adorned with the white tree of Gondor.  
"To be honest, I know very few blond-haired gondorian brothers important enough to be summoned here, in Rivendell, other than the Steward's sons."  
A small smile illuminated Faramir's lips at the simple deduction. He looked about to add something, but was interrupted by the arrival of a beautiful elleth. He quickly noticed the way her and the man were looking at each other, so he simply told them :  
"If you will excuse me, I have... Some things to see with my brother."  
"Thank you." Thorongil told him gratefully.  
With that, the young man bowed to the elleth and left.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old, you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom."  
Lord Elrond turned his head to face the young Frodo Baggins in his stone seat.   
"Bring forth the ring, Frodo."  
The young Hobbit got up and walked to a stone pedestal in the center of the seats. Every look was upon him as he took the precious Ring from his pocket and put it down on the pedestal. Immediately, Boromir gripped his brother's shoulder and barely whispered :  
"So it is true…"  
Frodo took a step and sat back. Everyone was staring at the ring with both fear and envy in their eyes. Boromir was looking as if hesitating, staring both at his brother, who had considerably paled, and the bane he had in front of his eyes. Eventually, he got up, despite the iron grip his brother had on his forearm and the pleading look in his eyes.  
"In a dream, Faramir and I saw the eastern sky grow dark…" he began. He rapidly noticed his brother was desperately pleading him to sit back. He hesitated slightly, but looked back at the Ring and continued however, his eyes still fixed on the Ring, "But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying : 'Your doom is near at hand. Isildur's Bane is found.'"   
He brought forth his hand and brought it closer, and closer… He couldn't resist it… If he could just… touch it... "Isildur's Bane…"  
Elrond and Gandalf immediately got up from their chair, shouting :  
"Boromir !"  
Faramir jumped from his chair and seized Boromir by his both arms in an attempt to pull him back. The sky suddenly went dark as Gandalf began shouting :  
"Ash nazg durbatulûk ! Ash nazg gimbatul ! Ash nazg thrakatulûk ! Agh burzum-ishi krimpatul !"  
Every Elf winced as the Black Speech reached their sensitive ears, a blonde one looking peculiarly uneased. As the wizard finished and sat back in his chair, Lord Elrond turned to face him, a look of anger and disgust in his eyes.  
"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris."  
"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf began, "for the black speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West ! The Ring is altogether evil."  
"Nay, it is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor." Boromir tried to get up again, but this time, his brother managed to restrain him back and look at him in a way that clearly meant 'Don't you dare any closer to this thing again'. Boromir shot him an evil glance, so dark that Faramir couldn't suppress a gasp at the sight, and involuntarily drove away from him. Boromir took the opportunity and got up to speak to the other members of the Council.  
"Why not use this Ring ? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy ! Let us use it against him !"  
"Boromir ! Stop it ! This is madness ! The One Ring cannot be controlled ! Not by any of us !" Faramir finally shouted and raised from his seat, shocked by the speech his older brother had just held in front of the entire Council. He couldn't take it anymore. Boromir was a sensible man, how could he…?  
"You do not understand, little brother. This Ring could be the key to all the problems our country faces or will ever have to face !"  
The younger man shook his head, a look of our disbelief and incomprehension on his face.  
"Boromir…" was the only word he could get past his lips before he fell back to his chair.  
"Your brother is right, you cannot wield it ! None of us can." the voice of Thorongil suddenly raised from beside him. Boromir turned to face him, a look of pure anger in his eyes, but the other man kept on.  
"The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."  
"And what would a Ranger know of this matter ?" Boromir asked him sceptically.  
A young blonde Elf and Faramir got up in the same time. Faramir was ashamed of the disrespect his older brother had just shown to their grandfather's friend and support, but it was the Elf who spoke first :  
"This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."  
Both brothers turned around to face the man. Boromir, with a look of suspicion and Faramir, looking full of pride and joy.  
"Aragorn... This is Isildur's heir ?" the older man asked.  
"And heir to the throne of Gondor," both the Elf and Faramir added in the same time, but the man only whispered it as he was hit by realisation. That's why he looked so familiar… He had seen him...  
"Havo dad, Legolas," the man gently ordered in Elvish to the blonde Elf. He looked surprised when Faramir fell on one knee and bowed his head in front of him.  
"My King, I beg you to accept my most humble excuses for not having recognized you in the first place."  
"No no ! Please, get up." he told him hastily.  
"Please, get up Faramir. Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." Boromir simply told him.  
Again, Faramir could only listen as the angry words passed his brother's lips. He still gave him a slight knock in his knee as they both sat back, which owed him only a questioning glance from the older man.  
"Aragorn is right," the voice of Gandalf broke, "We cannot use it."  
"You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Elrond finally stated.  
"What are we waiting for ?" a dwarf next to the brothers asked, getting and going to swing down his axe on the golden Ring. It exploded just as the blade touched it, reducing the fine dwarfish work into pieces on the ground. The young Hobbit named Frodo immediately put a hand on his face, as if in pain while the other dwarves got their companion on his feet.  
"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin," Lord Elrond explained, "by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade... It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came ! One of you... Must do this."  
The Elf Lord let the words ring, apparently waiting for an answer that did not. No one knew what to say or do but eventually, Boromir spoke :  
"One does not simply walk into Mordor."  
"What do you mean, Boromir ?" Gandalf asked him, but it was Faramir who answered him, afraid of what his brother might say :  
"It's Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash and dust. The only air you breathe is poison. To even pass the Gates is nearly impossible."  
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said ? The Ring must be destroyed !" the blonde Elf named Legolas angrily replied back at him, which startled the already troubled man.  
"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it !" the Dwarf shouted at him in reproach.  
"Don't you dare speaking on this tone to my brother ever again !" Boromir got up and scolded the Elf too as he tried walking threateningly to him. But he was stopped as he felt his brother's trembling hand on his shoulder.  
"Leave it, Boromir, please." he told him pleadingly. The older man turned to face him. His entire body was shaking and his eyes were red.  
"Sit down, please…" he barely whispered to him. He looked so desperate… This vision struck him right into the heart and finally, the darkness disappeared from his eyes, he nodded, and sat.  
"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf !" they heard the Dwarf shout. This must have irritated the other Elves, who immediately stood up to support their comrade. So did the dwarves.  
"Never trust and Elf !" the red haired dwarf shouted one last time. This time, it were the men who stood up. Even Gandalf joined the argument.  
"Do you not understand ? While you bicker amongst yourselves, Sauron's power grows !"  
In the end, the only one who had remained sat were Aragorn, Faramir, Boromir, who had passed his arm behind his brother's shoulder and was holding him gently, Elrond and young Frodo. The Hobbit was staring intently at the Ring before him, as if it were talking to him. In fact, it was talking to him, it was trying to get him closer and closer...  
"None can escape it ! You'll all be destroyed !" the wizard's voice rang, but it seemed so far away to the young Hobbit. The only thing he cared about right now we the Ring… The one Ring… He was so close… He just… But suddenly, flames appeared on the golden surface. He immediately became aware again of his surroundings and gathered back his thoughts.  
"I will take it." he said, but no one seemed to hear him, so he repeated, louder this time :  
"I will take it."  
Everyone turned their faces to stare at him in obvious surprise.  
"I will take the Ring to Mordor." he bravely continued, "Though... I do not know the way."  
"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Gandalf stated, a protective tone in his voice.  
"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will. You have my sword," the voice of Aragorn immediately followed, while he moved forward and kneeled in front of him.  
"And you have my bow," the young Elf named Legolas quickly added, stepping next to Frodo.  
"And my ax," the dwarf joined, probably more by pride seeing an Elf had come, more than real desire to help.  
After a few seconds break during which the two gondorian brothers nodded at each other in silent acknowledgement before getting up.  
"You carry the fate of us all, little one," Boromir said, stepping forward, "If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done."  
His brother quickly followed him and kneeled in front of the young Hobbit.  
"You can count on us, Master Hobbit. We won't let you down."  
Suddenly, as all the men had gathered, a little voice came from behind a bush and a second Hobbit joined them.  
"Hey ! Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me."  
"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret Council and you are not." Lord Elrond told him, an amused smile on his lips. But as soon as he had said these words, two other young Hobbits came, running out from behind a pillar where they were hidden :  
"Oy ! We're coming too !" one of them shouted on the way. Elrond states at them as they rushed past him, a look of disbelief on his face.  
"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," the young Hobbit finished as he took place with the other one next to Frodo.  
"Anyway," the other one added, "You need people of intelligence on this sort of... Mission… Quest... Thing !"  
"Well, that rules you out, Pip," the first one whispered to him.  
When he was sure there wasn't any more Hobbit hidden anywhere nearby, Lord Elrond stared at the men, Elf, Dwarf, wizard and Hobbits in front of him.  
"Ten companions... So be it. You shall be the fellowship of the Ring !" he finally declared, looking full of pride.  
"Great ! Where are we going ?"

Havo dad : Sit down


	3. Many Meetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 3 ! It's just a basic emotional hurt/comfort one. Again, there are some Sindarin sentences, all translations are in the end.  
> Enjoy !

"Boromir ? Come, I think we need to talk." Faramir told his brother, taking him away from the Council room and heading to a surprisingly empty garden.  
"What happened back there ?" he asked immediately in a quite sharp tone, just as they arrived.  
"What do you mean 'what happened' ? You were there too."  
"Don't try to evade my question, Boromir. I know you weren't yourself."  
"What are you talking about, Fara, I wasn't any different from…"  
Faramir give him the glance that clearly meant 'Do not take me for a fool' and Boromir was forced to answer.  
"I do not know, brother, honestly. It seemed rather obvious at that time, but now...  
"Obvious ?" he cut off without thinking "How could that kind of absurdities seem obvious to you, Boromir… I..." his voice broke in shock and despair at the fact that use a Ring made by Sauron could have seemed an obvious thing to do for his brother.  
The shadow suddenly returned to Boromir's eyes, so did his anger. Again, he wasn't the caring and sensible brother Faramir knew him to be.  
"I wasn't being absurd, Faramir, I was telling the truth ! This Ring is the future of Gondor !" he almost shouted, his thoughts again clouded by a mysterious and thick darkness.  
"It is not ! How can you say that kind of stupidities ? The Ring was forged by Sauron himself, he is its only master ! No man, wizard, Hobbit, Elf or Dwarf other than him can wield it ! It is folly !"  
"Our father gave us a mission, little brother. It is our duty to have his wish fulfilled !"  
His brother sighed deeply in desperation. How could a strong man such as his brother couldn't realise how mad his words were ? How could he possibly believe he could be as strong as Sauron himself ? How could he do this just to please his father ?  
"Do not sigh this way, Faramir ! Your entire allegiance goes to our father. You would have to pay it with your life, should you ever contest his authority."  
"You seem to forget that our Father is not the highest authority in Gondor, anymore. The King has returned, Boromir, shall you want it or not. Our allegiance must go to him, now. Besides, Father didn't give this mission to me, he gave it to you and you only. He didn't trust me enough for this."  
"If it is really what you think, then Father was wise not to trust you ! And my allegiance does not go to a so-called King I did not know about until this morning !"  
The words hurt Faramir deeply. Never before had his dear brother talked to him this way. Never before had he called him untrustworthy. Never before had he denied the possible return of the King. Never before… Had he defended his father against him… He felt the tears filling his eyes and one of them began rolling down his cheek. It couldn't be.  
As he saw the tears in his brother's eyes, the shadow, again, left the older man's eyes, and he suddenly came to the realisation of what he had just said. All he could do now was to cover his mouth with a shaking hand in regret.  
"I told you, you are not yourself."  
With that, the young gondorian left the balcony, hiding his tears and leaving his brother alone, frozen in shock by his own words.  
He had just made a few steps when Boromir caught up on him and put his hands on his shoulders.  
"Faramir ?" he asked in a very troubled and hesitant voice, but his brother didn't bother turning around. Boromir could easily sense his shoulders shaking. How could he have said that to him ? He didn't even mean it.  
"Faramir, I am so deeply sorry. I do not even know why I said that. I didn't mean it and I never will, little brother, I swear. I do not know what came over me."  
"But you still said them. Deep inside you, you know them to be true. And maybe they are..." he answered in resignation.  
The voice of Faramir was completely shaky from silent crying. What he had just said tore Boromir's heart apart. Of course he didn't mean it at all, how could he ? And how could he possibly think what he had said was true ?  
"Oh, Faramir, what are you talking about ? I told you I have never mean those words and I never will, I swear. You are the dearest person I have and I swear on the Valar I will never, ever think that kind of thing. I am so very sorry, brother, I don't know what happened. And I can assure you Father was very wrong not to trust you. I don't allow you to even dare to imagine he might have been right."  
His words only met silence, only cut by his brother's quiet sobs. He felt so bad and he was absolutely unable to understand what happened to his mind to make them say this. He felt so lost ! He couldn't stand the simple thought of loosing his brother on those silly and completely untrue words.  
"I know I don't deserve it, but will you ever forgive me ?" he asked, deeply remorseful.  
"I don't know, brother. I want to, but… I don't know… I will try."  
"Thank you." he answered, hopeful.  
Immediately after, Faramir released himself from his brother's embrace and began walking away.  
"Sorry, but I have to go. I need to think"  
"Faramir !" Boromir tried to make him stay, but uselessly, his brother was already gone.  
The older man fell to his knees as he was finally overtook by both anger against himself, and an incredible remorse.  
"Oh, Valar, what have I done ?"

Faramir rapidly found himself wandering aimlessly in the Last Homely House, not even able to think about something coherent. So much had happened this day…  
Only pieces of memory were reaching his mind :  
'I know of his uses and they are few.' 'Always you cast a poor reflection on me.' 'Father was wise not to trust you !', but none of them affected him anymore. He was a ghost.  
He was walking… Somewhere… it was a wonder his feet could still carry him.  
Where was he heading to ? Not a clue. But it was as if something, a small remaining light in the darkness of his mind, was guiding him, thinking for him.  
Not even knowing why or how, he eventually arrived on a bridge, facing a sparkling waterfall and he lost himself into contemplation as he felt his mind lighten a little. In fact, he felt as if the shadows that had been living in it were now drawn aback by some mysterious force.  
"Beautiful, isn't it ?" a womanly voice rose beside him.  
He turned his head to face the shining blue eyes of a seemingly young elleth, who was smiling at him.  
"Y-Yes, indeed." he answered, quite troubled by her sudden appearance. He could have sworn she was nowhere to be seen he arrived, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He wasn't really paying attention to his surroundings.  
"I always come here when I am seeking peace."  
The man glared at her in half shock as everything made sense : the light, at first barely noticeable but now filling his mind, who had guided him… The sudden appearance of the Lady…  
"Y-You led me here ?" he asked her.  
"I am afraid I do not possess that kind of abilities. However, it is told that it is the very waterfall which is leading the troubled souls here."

Faramir looked at her in obvious confusion.  
"Then... H-How did you know…?"  
"I am afraid I heard you in the gardens." she simply answered, seeming quite reluctant to admit it.  
Unfortunately, with the slow disappearance of the darkness that had been clouding his thoughts, Faramir felt his emotions coming back and turned around to hide his tears from the elleth.  
"Crying is not a shame, Faramir of Gondor, it is a strength. Do not try to hide it." she told him as she gently turned his face back to her and gave him a comforting smile.  
"You have to forgive him, my Lord. It wasn't him who was speaking." she continued.  
"How do you know ?" he asked in a shaky voice, suspiciously.  
"You saw it. That darkness in his eyes. You know it. It is the same thing that is now preventing you to admit that I am right."  
And she was right. Everything she had said made perfect sense, but for Faramir, it wasn't, like if a little voice inside his head kept telling him it was a lie, that she was tricking him, manipulating him.  
He was about to reply to her, but the Lady, sensing his doubt, put a hand on his forehead and closed her eyes. He didn't move or say anything, but he still needed to fight the urge to resist it.  
"Edro i ind lîn." she whispered.  
And then, all of a sudden, that little voice in his mind disappeared, and he believed her. In fact, everything looked much clearer now. He felt like he had awoken from a long nightmare.  
"The Ring !" he involuntarily let out. Of course it was ? Why hadn't he realised it earlier ?  
He looked down at the elleth and a bright smile illuminated his face.  
"It is indeed. Its only purpose is to make the quest fail. It knows that if you succeed, It will be destroyed. It needs Its real master. It wants to break you apart, every Fellowship member, so that you will become weaker and easier to manipulate. Be very careful on your journey. You will have to help each other to resist It." she explained him.  
"How could I ever thank you ?"  
"It is not me you need to thank. But if you truly want to, then destroy the Ring. Lead the Fellowship to its success. Or at least try."  
Faramir gently took her hand and place a kiss on it.  
"We will. Gweston." he promised her just before they were interrupted by the arrival of a young brown-haired ellon Faramir had seen briefly during the Council and the blond Elf named Legolas.  
"Legolas aníra peded na cen ebgwannog." the Brown haired one told the Lady.  
"No, anno nin luig, listo." she answered.  
The ellon nodded and took a few steps back and the elleth turned around to face Faramir and took his hands.  
"My apologies, but I have to leave you. Remember what I told you." she brought her lips close to his ear before adding :  
"And beware, foreseeing is a rare gift amongst men. It may be a gift, as well as a curse."  
He looked at her in shock. He had told her nothing about that… A small, fair laugh escaped her lips at his surprised face, she bowed to him and began heading to the other Elves.

"Ask the Lady Galadriel, she is the one you need to thank, I am a simple intermediary !" she added mysteriously.  
Faramir hesitated slightly before asking her :  
"Will I ever meet her ?"  
She turned back to face him and answered him hopefully :  
"Harthon-hai, mellon-nîn."  
As she walked away, she was met by Legolas who put a hand on the her shoulder and her away. He still shot Faramir an evil glance, as if he were warning him for no apparent reason, to which the man answered with a small frown. The other ellon simply bowed to him, smiling, and left.  
"Hannon-le." the gondorian quietly whispered under his breath.  
He could have sworn the Lady had heard him, for she turned her head to him, a bright smile illuminating her face.  
'Elves can be so mysterious at times…'

Boromir let out a sigh of relief as he finally found his brother, standing on a large balcony, facing a sparkling. He had spent almost half an hour, running frantically in the gardens of the Last Homely House, not paying attention to the intrigued glances the Elves gave him.  
'I'm sorry. Oh, Faramir, I am so sorry ! Where are you, please ?' he kept thinking, his mind filled with only remorse and anger to himself for having hurt his brother this way. After his brother left him desperate in the garden, he had stayed on his knees for some long minutes, trying to gather back his thoughts and to make sense of what had just happened, completely lost in remorse and fear and anger.  
'I should have gone after him right away ! I shouldn't have left him alone ! But he didn't seem to want me with him… And now look at me. What if he had left ? What if he had gone into the forest ? Maybe he met a group of Orcs and…'  
He was interrupted in his dark thoughts by the fair voice of a seemingly young brown-haired ellon.  
"Are you Faramir's brother ?" he asked him.  
"Yes," he answered hurriedly, "Have you seen him ?"  
"Yes, his is on the bridge facing the waterfall over here." the ellon answered, pointing the way.  
"Oh, thank the stars !" he let out in a breath, relieved. "My thanks." he rapidly told the Elf before running off.

"Faramir !" he called. His brother turned around.  
"Boromir ?" he asked as the older man rushed to him and held him tightly against his chest.  
"I'm sorry. I am so so sorry. Please, forgive me. Oh, Faramir, I'm…" his voice broke as he burst out into tears, all the emotions he had tried to hide finally breaking out, all at once. Relief, remorse, sadness, anger… And love. Unlimited love for his dear brother.  
"There is nothing to forgive, brother. It wasn't you, I am sure of it now." Faramir told him as he felt his own tears coming down. He closed his eyes and held his brother even tighter. They had found peace.

Translations :

Elleth : Lady elf

Ellon : Man elf

Edro i ind lîn : Open your mind

Gweston : I swear

Legolas aníra peded na cen ebgwannog : Legolas wishes to speak with you before you leave

No, anno nin luig, listo : Yes, give me a moment, please

Harthon-hai, mellon-nîn : I hope so, my friend

Hannon-le : Thank you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I have no idea of what I am going to do with this OC... Nothing ? A guide, maybe ? Or maybe a love story ? But with who ? For now, not a clue...If you have any idea, suggestion or wishes, feel free to tell me !


	4. The Pass of Caradhras

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 4 ! The first half of it will still be centered on the Faramir-Boromir relationship and the second half about the beginning of the Journey. Enjoy !

The night had been restless for the entire Fellowship, as every single one of their nerves seemed to be highly tensed. The brothers didn't escape it, of course. Boromir had awoken a first time after a nightmare, which he quickly dismissed and let his mind slip again into the calm and sweetness of a heavy sleep. He was used to nightmares, and this one was particularly unrealistic to be really scary. 'Since when is an Oliphaunt big enough to walk ON Osgiliath and destroy it entirely in one step ?' was his only thought as he fell into a comfortable unconsciousness. He was awoken a second time by his brother. He looked agitated in his bed and small moans were escaping his lips.  
Boromir was quite used to that too : his brother wasn't renowned for its peaceful night sleep.  
Letting out a sigh at the idea of leaving his warm bed, Boromir still got up and walked to the younger man's bed and kneeled beside it. He could hardly realize he had finally forgiven him. He didn't deserve it. At all.  
With his hand, he gently brushed his brother's cheek, in an attempt to wake him up, calmly. Oh, he had done this a thousand times already. Usually, Faramir's eyes would have fluttered open at the touch, but this time, he seemed completely trapped into the nightmare.  
"Get away from me !" he screamed, unconsciously kicking Boromir's jaw with his fist.  
"Father, please, stop this ! Leave it !"  
"Faramir !" he called, rubbing his aching jaw. By the stars, his brother could be hard kicking when he wanted to.  
"No… No ! Don't touch it ! Get away from it !"  
"Faramir, please, it's me. It is just a bad dream, wake up !"  
He caught his arms, preventing another angry fist to meet his face. One time was enough.  
"Let me go !" was his only answer  
Boromir felt worry building up inside his chest. Why wasn't he waking up ? That was highly unusual. He didn't want to slap him awake, since he seemed to consider any touch as an attack.  
Then without a warning, Faramir a scream no one knew he was holding. A scream of pain, obviously.  
"Somebody help !" he shouted in despair as he felt the situation was now far beyond his control. Less than ten seconds later, the door slammed open and three people ran in. Boromir immediately recognised the long grey beard of Gandalf and the almost shining face of Elrond. They still wore their day clothes, as if they hadn't been sleeping at all. Gandalf didn't wore his hat, though.  
"What's wrong with him ?" the Lord of Rivendell asked hurriedly.  
"He's having a nightmare, I can't wake him up !" Boromir answered with a loud voice, trying to cover his brother's shouts of pain.  
"Get away from him !" ordered Elrond as he took place beside the bed, put his hands on Faramir's chest and started singing in his mother tongue. Boromir knew too few of Elvish languages to understand what he was saying, but whatever it was, it seemed to appease his brother, whose screaming stopped, breathing slowed down and muscles relaxed.  
"Faramir ? Are you with us ?" the Elven Lord asked him.  
The young man's eyes slowly open and he immediately sat up on his bed at the sight of the four worried faces staring at him.  
"Master Elrond ? Mithrandir ? Boromir ? Did I wake you up ?"  
"Wake up ?!" Boromir asked, rubbing his jaw with an exaggerated look of pain on his face, "That's an euphemism ! Next time, remind me to take a shield as soon as I get under one meter far from you." he continued, unable to hide the humour, but also great relief in his voice.  
Faramir let out a small and slightly forced laugh as he pictured the scene into his mind. Boromir frowned a bit as he perceived the unnaturalness in the laughing. Something was wrong…  
"At least you didn't wake us up, Faramir, for Master Elrond and I were still discussing important issues of the journey together." Gandalf told him in a reassuring tone.  
"I am glad to hear it."  
"How do you feel, my Lord ?" Elrond asked as he walked away into a corner of the room, took some leaves from inside his mantel, and plunged them into a cup of water.  
"Much better, thanks to you."  
"Good. Have you already experienced that kind of premonitional dreams in the past or was it new ?"  
He came back to the bed, the cup in hands.  
"I have, yes. But not quite as powerful as this one."  
The Elf and the Wizard glanced at each other, in a silent acknowledgement.  
"Do you want to talk about it, son ?" Gandalf asked him. The man hesitated a few seconds before answering :  
"N-No, not now."  
"Are you sure ? Do not carry this burden alone, Faramir." the Grey Wizard asked, giving him a glance that made yourself feel as if he could read everyone of your thoughts.  
"No, please, Mithrandir, I do not feel ready yet."  
The three faces glared at him for some seconds in silence, eyes filled with concern, before Gandalf's voice broke :  
"So be it. But you will tell us, eventually."  
The man weakly nodded his head.  
"Here," Elrond handed him out the cup, "Drink it, it will ease your sleep."  
"My thanks."  
Silently, both Elf and Wizard got up, leaving the men alone in their wide and finely decorated room. Boromir Pit a hand on his brother's shoulder and looked at him right into the eyes.  
"Are you sure you do not want to talk about it ?" he asked.  
"I… Don't know…"  
"Tell me. Nothing bad will happen if you do."  
Faramir took a long, deep breath, filling his lungs with the pure air in the room, before answering in a shaking and hesitant voice :  
"F-Father looked into it."  
"Into what ?"  
"The Palantìr... And then, there was this eye… The Eye, Boromir. It consumed him, and then… It locked on me… I felt as if It was burning him from the inside…"  
Faramir's voice broke under emotion, and his brother gently took him in his arms. 'I wish I could help you brother…' he thought as he held the shaking form against his chest.  
"What if I was wrong, Boromir ? What if by coming here to protect you, I had sent our Father to his destruction ?" the young man asked, trouble evident in his voice.  
"You followed your heart, Faramir. You did what you felt was right. Therefore, you cannot be wrong."

Long was the way and exhausted were the minds. But there was no time to rest. Not now, at least. Hopefully, the Fellowship could count on the Hobbits to lighten the mood. Every traveller was now absolutely certain that the expression 'I'm hungry !' was the devise of the Shire. Or at least Merry and Pippin's one. Even Gandalf hadn't been able to suppress a laugh when, half an hour after lunch, the small voice of Pippin had risen behind him :  
"Strider ? There is nothing left of today's rabbit, is it ?"  
Every companion had had the great honor to be the unfortunate target of they many pranks. Even Master Samwise dared to join them sometimes. The more quiet of them was young Master Frodo, who looked rather absent most of the time, no wonder. His burden was no doubt the smallest but yet the heaviest to carry…  
Boromir and Faramir seemed to the easiest targets, for they had been pranked three times already :  
"Will my little brother leave me to endure this terrible torture ?" Boromir had asked teasingly after having been buried under the weigth of the two little Hobbits while he and Faramir were teaching them swordfight.  
"Oh no, I think you're doing just fine brother." Faramir had answered laughing at him.  
"Traitor."  
But apparently, he had been standing too close to Merry and Pippin, for he felt two little pairs of hands grabbing his ankles, and before he could react, he found himself lying on his back next to his brother, with two overexcited Hobbits on his chest.  
"Surprise attack !" Pippin yelled, which made all of them burst out laughing. All of them except Legolas, who was standing on a rock, looking tensed. He hadn't talk to any of the brothers yet. In fact, the only persons he was talking to were Aragorn and Mithrandir, as they seemed to have known each other for a very long time. Well, in fact he spoke to the dwarf Gimli toi, but their conversations were far from friendly. Faramir had tried to talk to him once or twice, but he seemed to be avoiding him and answered only with monosyllables.  
"Don't worry about him, brother. It is not new that Mirkwood Elves do not trust men." Boromir had told him once, after another failed attempt to engage conversation.  
"But it is new that a Mirkwood Elf is able to have a longer conversation with a dwarf than with a man." had he retorted.  
Boromir had laughed at the comment before adding teasingly :  
"He must be intimidated by your impressive natural charisma."  
"Cheeky man." Faramir replied, laughing. His brother seemed even more closer to him than he was before since the events of Rivendell, as if in perpetual protectiveness and worry for him. He was back the humourous man Faramir knew him to be.  
At first, the journey had seemed peaceful, but it was without counting on the unlimited perfidy of Saruman the White. First, there had been the Crebains from Dunland, spying the entire landscape in an attempt to find the Fellowship. They could avoid them, but only barely and thanks to Legolas' piercing eyes. Unfortunately for them, that meant the Gap of Rohan was watched by Isengard.  
"We shall go through the Pass of Caradhras." Gandalf had declared. And so they did. Despite Gimli's best attempts to convince them that going through the mines of Moria would have been the best thing to do.  
But there again, trouble had found them quickly, for the Hobbit's bare feet slipped easily on the snow. It had happened to Frodo first, but Aragorn was behind him and could catch him easily. Unfortunately, the One Ring had fallen from his neck and was lying on the snow. It was Boromir who retrieved it back and he felt, once again It's shadow creeping inside his mind. He still had trouble resisting it, but he now knew to what It's evil could lead and tried avoid it. Besides, he could count on his brother, who put a hand on his shoulder, which quickly brought him back to reality, and gave it back to the young Hobbit, who quickly and maybe a bit suspiciously put it back in place.  
There had been snow, which had forced the men to take the Hobbits under their cloak. But even though, they were all freezing and they now had to be carried to avoid disappearing under the snow.  
And now there was that voice.  
"I hear a fell voice in the air !" had said Legolas after having easily passed them, for he was walking on the snow and not in it, which had made Gimli muttered something about 'privileged showing-off Elves' for he, too, was half hurried under the cold white flakes.  
And there was indeed a voice. Speaking in an indistinct language.  
"It's Saruman !" Gandalf had yelled in recognition and he, too had begun shouting in that foreign language.  
It did not work, apparently. For the snowing increased even more (if it was possible) and soon enough, a bolt of lightning tore the sky and smashed the mountain over them and they had had to hide themselves to avoid the huge rock that came crashing down on them. Still, that didn't prevent them from being now completely buried under the avalanche that fell with it. Hopefully, there wasn't much of it so they could get out very quickly but breathlessly of it.  
"We cannot keep on this way ! This would be the death of the Hobbits !" shouted Boromir as he held tightly the shaking forms of Merry and Pippin under his cloak, and this time, Faramir could only agree that it would be a wise decision to turn back.  
"He is right !" answered Gimli, finally seeing his opportunity, "We cannot pass over the mountains, let's go under it ! Let's go through the Mines of Moria !"  
Gandalf's face suddenly darkened as he realised it was their only way to go… It was what Saruman wanted them to do… To take the Mines… Still he didn't say anything of it and suggested, turning his face to Frodo, hidden under Strider's cloak :  
"Let the Ring-bearer decide."  
After a few moments of hesitation, Frodo finally answered :  
"We'll go through the Mines."  
The wizard's face seemed to crumble even further, but he kept on :  
"So be it."  
And when Faramir met his eyes, the young man understood… Oh ! He knew this look all too well. There was something. Something in the Mines. Something even Gandalf the Grey was afraid of… And that… Couldn't be of any good...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this chapter, I wasn't very sure about the second part and I hope it wasn't too bad...


	5. The Doors of Durin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is up ! Enjoy !

They were right in front of it. The mighty doors of Moria. Well… Apparently, they were. Because at the moment, it just seemed to be a regular mountain wall, perfectly flat, with nothing on it. Boromir had to admit he was quite confused. How were they supposed to get in there ? By walking through the mountain, maybe ? Turning into ghosts ? Seeing the questioning look on his brother's face, Faramir couldn't suppress a small laugh.

"The dwarven doors are invisible when they're closed." he explained, "I thought you knew about that." he added, teasingly.

"Well… Er… Maybe I did, yes… But it was long ago, you know…"

"Or maybe you weren't listening when Lord Baranon taught you that, as usual." he retorted.

Even with his light tone, Boromir could easily sense that there was something off. Faramir was worried about something even if he didn't want to show it…

"Gandalf ? How are we supposed to enter if the doors are invisible ?" the voice of Pippin rose next to them. Apparently, he had heard the two men discussing.

"Patience, young Took." answered Gandalf, "You will see."

"Is it true that the dwarves of Erebor didn't remember how to find the doors ?" asked again Pippin, curious and maybe slightly worried.

"It is true, indeed. But Bilbo found them, eventually. There is no need to worry, Peregrin Took. Wait and see." Gandalf answered him again, comfortingly.

"Why doesn't that surprise me ?" Legolas muttered under his breath at the mention of the dwarven company, which owed him a scold from Gimli :

"How dare you, you impertinent, disrespectful, showing-off, silly Elf !"

"You are the one telling me about respect ? Gimli, son of Glòin ? I…" the Elf started, but was cut off by the voice of Faramir :

"Gentlemen, please ! Now is not the moment !"

Oh, Valar, he couldn't stand this anymore. Couldn't they just ignore themselves and stop arguing about nothing every five seconds ?

They both looked about to retort him something, but Aragorn interfered :

"He is right. Now is hardly the time for that kind of debate. Please."

The two fell silent, ashamed by their own behaviour but not less angry at each other.

"Dihenalir nin." Legolas still apologised to both men.

"Yeah…'m sorry…" added Gimli, more for good mesure than in a real apology.

After a few moments, the moon finally broke through the thick amount of clouds and enlighten the walls of the mountain. Every companion took a step back in amazement as the pale light revealed the fine contours of high doors adorned by a dwarven crown, hammer and anvil, under seven stars and two beautiful trees surmounted by crescent moon. The doors were formed by an arch, with a text on it.

"The emblems of Dùrin !" Gimli exclaimed, quickly followed by Legolas :

"And the Trees of the High Elves !"

Faramir took a closer look, slowly deciphering the writings. 'Tengwar…' he thought in recognition of the strange symbols. Hopefully, he had learned this writing well enough to be able to read it. 'Ennyn Durin Aran Moria. Pedo Mellon a Minno. Im Narvi hain echant. Celebrimbor o Eregion teithant i thiw hin.' it said. Slowly, the young man's mind began translating it, slowly but surely.

"The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter. I, Narvi, made them. Celebrimbor of Hollin drew these signs." Gandalf translated out loud for him.

"What does it mean ?" asked both Merry and Pippin in the same time, looking perfectly lost.

"It seems to mean that you have to speak a password to enter." answered Faramir.

"Exactly, young man." Gandalf agreed while he walked to the doors, put the head of his staff on the dark stone and began shouting some kind of Elvish spells.

The entire company were staring intently at the silver lining, expecting them to open at any minute. Gimli seemed especially enthusiastic at the idea of finally getting inside. But Faramir was just frowning. Something was amiss, he felt it. And as nothing happened and the mighty doors remained perfectly closed, he was without a doubt the least surprised of the whole Fellowship. A look of disbelief passed on every of the other's face, for they were all blindly entrusting the Wizard to clear the way, while Faramir's one only wore a look of intense reflection.

It had to be more simple. The dwarves didn't speak Elvish. The could know a few words at most, but not the kind of long spells Gandalf had just declaimed and was still trying. What would be the use for dwarves to build a door none of them could open ? There had to be something else. Something easier to remember, or to find, so that if a friend in need of help or shelter came here, he would be able to find a way to enter… A friend… 'Speak friend and enter'... Something easy… 'Speak friend'... Celebrimbor had traced the lines… Friend…

"Mellon !" he cried as every piece of the puzzle eventually found its place into his mind. Immediately after, they heard a huge crack into the mountain and slowly, the great stone doors opened, revealing a dark corridor.

"Mellon, yes !" Gandalf spoke, "The Elvish word for 'friend' ! 'Speak friend and enter'... Congratulations Geliadan !" he continued, calling Faramir by the old nickname he had given him when he was younger.

The man bowed his head under the thankful looks of the rest of the Fellowship and smiled as Boromir pattes his shoulder and he felt Gimli's hand on his upper leg.

"Well done, lad." he told him in gratitude.

Merry and Pippin were dancing around him, filled with joy and relief, while Frodo and Sam nodded him their thanks. He even got a bright smile from both Legolas and Aragorn and smiled back. Still, it quickly faded as he noticed Mithrandir's face darken even more. The King and Elf noticed it too this time and their brow furrowed. That was enough now. He had to talk to him. Aragorn and Legolas nodded at him and so, has they entered the Mines, he silently walked next to the Grey Wizard and asked, almost whispering :

"Mithrandir, I see something is troubling you. What is wrong with this place ?"

Gandalf glared at him in mild surprise before answering :

"I didn't remember you were that good an observer, Faramir."

But the man wasn't a fool.

"That did not answer my question, I am afraid." he retorted.

"And I am afraid I cannot give you an answer at the moment, young man." the Wizard replied back, sounding rather irritated. The Gondorian stopped walking and frowned. Whatever was wrong, he would find out eventually.

"He won't tell you, will he ?" Aragorn's voice broke.

"I'm afraid not, Sire."

"Stop calling me this way. Aragorn is enough"

"What are you two talking about ?" Boromir interrupted, still not showing a great respect to Isildur's heir.

"Nothing important." Faramir lied, smiling.

Boromir was about to ask him something, but was cut off by the joyful voice of Gimli who had been telling Legolas all about the Mines, his cousin and the dwarves of Moria, without arguing too much, just as Gandalf lit his staff :

"This is the house of my cousin Balin ! And they call it a mine ?!"

But with the light Gandalf's sceptre now offered, they didn't discover the warm, joyful dwarves with the dozen barrels full of shining dwarven beer Gimli had described them all journey long, but dozens and dozens of corpses and skeletons covering the stone floor.

"I'm sorry, but this is not a mine," Boromir began, taking a step back, "It's a tomb."

And as the red-headed dwarf discovered the slayed bodies of his brothers lying on the floor, he could only yell out a terrible scream and fall on his knees. Aragorn grabbed his shoulders in comfort, the Hobbits held themselves tightly in horror and fear, Frodo looking deathly (even if this was surely not only because of the slaughter he was contemplating), and Legolas was already investigating the bodies, searching for the cause of this misery.

Faramir covered his mouth with his hand in shock. But not only. He felt a wave of nausea and dizziness slowly creeping in his body, but that wasn't because of the dead bodies in front of him. Black dots were beginning to fill his visions. He knew that all too well. 'No, no ! Please ! Not again !'. He tried to resist it, he didn't want this anymore, but it was useless. 'Forseeing may be a gift as well as a curse.' the Lady's voice rang into his ears.

"Boromir ?" his voice was barely a whisper as he gripped his brother's arm tightly.

"Faramir ?" he asked in return and surprise. "Faramir !" his voice quickly turned into a worried cry as he saw his brother was deathly pale and sweating.

"I think… I might pass out…" 

And with this sentence, he felt as if the floor under his feet suddenly disappeared and he fell. Then all went black… Again.

"You. Shall not. Pass !" Gandalf cried, the white light illuminating his entire body. The Balrog took a step forward, but the bridge broke, taking the beast with it. The Wizard turned around and began to head back. Faramir felt an immense relief washing all over his mind. But this was short-lived, as the saw the beast throw his whip to the Grey Wizard and it winded up around his ankle, pulling him back to the edge of the broken bridge and forcing him to hang by his arms. The young man held his breath. He wanted to run for him, to grab his arms, to pull him up, but the bridge would have no doubt broken under his weight. 'No… Not like this… It cannot end this way…'

"Fly, you fools !" Gandalf shouted at them. Then everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The Wizard opened his hands and… Fell into the abyss…

"Nooooo !" cried Frodo.

"Faramir !" a voice called from a far away place. Like it did the last time, his vision blurred and he was surrounded by only darkness.

"What is happening to him ?" a weeping voice Faramir recognized as Pippin's asked.

"Wait ! He's coming back !"

"Faramir ? Squeeze my hand if you hear us." a gentle voice asked as he felt a strong hand being put into his own. He squeezed it weakly

"Good. Now can you open your eyes for me ?" the same voice asked.

Slowly, the man opened his eyelids and met the concerned faces of the Fellowship above him.

"Very good. Are you feeling alright ?" the voice he now recognised as being Aragorn's asked

"Y-Yes…" he weakly answered.

He tried to straighten himself but had to be helped by both Legolas and Boromir who was completely white from concern.

"Was it a foresight, son ?" Gandalf worried voice asked gently. And here again, all of a sudden, everything came back to him.

"Mithrandir ! I know what's in the Mines ! I saw it ! It will kill you ! We have to go back !"

"We cannot go back, Geliadan. This is the only way. You know that." 

Faramir lowered his head. Yes, he knew that.

"Brother ? What was it you see ? What's in the Mines ?" his brother asked, sounding both curious and concerned.

"A Balrog of Morgoth."


	6. Moria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6, yay ! This one will introduce a bit of Gimli's POV. Thank you so much for the Kudos and comment, it's amazing !

"Gandalf, we have to turn back !" Frodo's pleading voice ordered, "I don't want you to die because of me !" he cried in despair.  
The Wizard put a hand on the Hobbit's shoulder, kneeling beside him.  
"There is no other way, Frodo. We cannot go through the Gap of Rohan nor take the Pass of Caradhras. This is our only chance.  
"But you will die !" he shouted at him, bursting into tears.  
"Maybe. Maybe not. Foresights show you the most probable future, but there is always a way to prevent them from happening." Gandalf answered, trying to soothe him. The little Hobbit turned his head to the young man still sitting on the floor, supported by the gentle hands of Boromir and Legolas and timidly asked him, in a voice that sounded both desperate and hopeful :  
"Is there anything that could be done to cancel it ?"  
"NO !" both Legolas' and Gandalf's voices echoed in the same time, before Faramir could answer, which made everyone startle. Frodo backed from the Wizard, afraid. "This is not to be revealed !" the grey cloaked man continued.  
"Why not ?" Boromir's misunderstanding voice rose, slightly shaking from the emotions of the past minutes.  
"The person granted by a foresight has to be the only master of his actions. If he reveals us too much about it, the fulfillment of the foresight will depend on someone else than him, which will increase the danger. No one can interfere saved him. Lord Faramir has already told us too much. He must say nothing more." the blond Elf explained calmly.  
'Whew ! That is no doubt the longest conversation we've had so far.' Boromir couldn't help but think. Yet he was quite disturbed by his words. Faramir had to be on his own ?  
As if reading his thoughts, the old Wizard added, addressing his brother :  
"It looks like you have to take your own decisions from now on, young man."

Faramir sighed as he was suddenly overtook by a wave of weariness and despair. He was really getting tired of this. Why had he had to inherit the 'gift' of his mother ? This was just too hard. Gandalf's life or death depended on him now ? That was too much. If Gandalf died… It would be his fault… He would never forgive himself. No one would.  
"What do you decide, Geliadan ? Shall we go on ?" Gandalf's voice asked, not sounding very much troubled by the announcement of his own possible death, as if he were expecting it.  
Faramir took a breath. Things could be done, yes. But would it be enough ? Will he be able to do it ? And yet… This was their best if not only option. At least there was hope…  
"We go." he stated after some long seconds of hesitation.  
"Are you sure ?" his brother asked, trying to sound not too much doubtful.  
"No." Faramir answered flatly, "but do we have a better option ?"  
His brother shook his head and immediately after, both he and Legolas grabbed him under his shoulders and helped him up, steadying him as he swayed slightly on his feet, felling a bit light-headed. As soon as he was secured between the Elf and man, he nodded to Gandalf to tell him he was ready to move and the company was led forward.  
"Hannon-le," Faramir thanked the Elf after a few meters walk, "I think I can walk by myself." he added, this time addressing both the Elven Prince and Boromir, still supporting him. The Elf nodded and went forward to Aragorn and Gimli, a few steps ahead.  
"Still not very talkative, is he ?" Boromir states more than asked, having remained close to the younger man and staring at him as if he would fall apart any minute.  
"Indeed no." he simply answered, his lips curving into a small smile.  
After a small silence, his brother asked him worriedly and sounding tensed :  
"Are you feeling alright ? This foresight seemed almost as intense as the one you had when Mother passed."  
Faramir shook at the memory. He was only five at that time. It had all happened so fast. One minute, he had been playing in the palace gardens with Boromir, and the other, he had fell face first onto the ground, feeling as if his heart had stopped and desperately gasping for an air that did not enter his lungs anymore. His eyes had closed before he could notice and he had contemplated helplessly as her mother gave out her last breath before her face had gone completely still, eyes wide open but glaring at nothing but the stone ceiling of the room. He had woken up two days after. The day she had died.  
"Yes, I am fine, but it is true it was a powerful one. They seem to become again as strong as they have been in the past. Like if I had regressed and didn't know how to master them anymore." he answered, finally letting himself to share his concern with his brother.  
"Or maybe they have grown stronger. You should talk to Mithrandir about that." his brother suggested.  
"I will, as soon as I find time." he promised him.  
The young man was suddenly startled as he felt a small pair of hands grabbing his right, a small head buried in it, weeping.  
"Pippin ?" he gasped in surprise as he recognised the small figure to be the young Hobbit, "Pippin, is there something wrong ?" the man asked in concern.  
"I-I thought y-you were dead…" a sobbing voice answered.  
"Oh, Pippin…" was all that could get past his lips as he put a knee on the ground and took the shaking boy in his arms, remembering the crying voice he had held while he had slowly been coming out of unconsciousness. He also remarked Merry and Sam bearing reddened eyes too, and Frodo looking even more pale and troubled, if it was possible, standing a few meters behind. They were still so young, so innocent… They shouldn't be enduring this…  
The man had to admit he had grown quite fond of the four little creatures. And especially young Peregrin, for no particular reason, just… They were on the same wavelength, just like Merry was with Boromir. And also because they were quite alike on some things : the Hobbit had loved to try swordfighting, but even more bowshooting on the small bow Faramir had made him. He cared much about his cousin and was stronger than he looked.  
"It's alright, young one, I'm alright. There is nothing to worry about. I wasn't dead." he tried to soothe him again, rubbing circles on his shaking back.  
"B-But you fell… All of a sudden… A-And you didn't move or answer when we called you…" the Hobbit burst out into tears in the Ranger's arms.  
"Shh… It's alright, Pippin. I am here now. I passed out, nothing bad. It happens sometimes."  
He felt the small head nod against his chest and slowly released him from his embrace.  
"Besides, I still need to teach you how to bowshoot, remember ?" he added, curving his lips into a smile. Pippin weakly smiled back at him, met by his cousin and the two other Hobbits.  
"It is good to see you safe and sound, sir. We were worried about you." Sam told him as he approached, following Frodo Who was walking to him.  
"Thank you Master Samwise." he answered.  
"True," young Frodo added, "You gave us quite a scare. Are you sure you are feeling better ?" he asked, sounding quite shaken by what had happened.  
"Yes, I am. My thanks."  
The Hobbit looked at him hesitantly for some seconds before adding worriedly :  
"Do you think you will be able to save Gandalf ?"  
Faramir Fell silent for some seconds. Truly, he did not know, and that scared him more than he would never admit. If he failed, everything would be his fault… This was so hard. Strangely, future had never seemed so unclear to him.  
"Yes," he lied, placing a grin on his face, "I think I will."  
Lying was a bad thing, but right now, these Hobbits needed hope.

Gimli still couldn't believe it as he cried next to his dear cousin's tomb. This couldn't be true, couldn't be real. It was just a nightmare. Except that it wasn't. He could easily sense that the fine and light hand resting on his right shoulder was very real.  
"We have had many disagreements, Master Dwarf. But believe me, I know what it is to lose the ones you care about, and I am very sorry for your loss."  
The dwarf had to admit he was very much surprised to hear the elf's voice and to realise that the hand on his shoulder was his. He wanted to say something, to at least thank him, just for good measure because everyone was watching, but no words could get past his shaking lips, so he just nodded, at least showing he had heard him.  
Dwarves didn't cry, or at least they didn't show they were. But this was just too hard to bear and he couldn't get any control over his body, at the moment. 'Why you, Balin ? Why ? It is not fair.' he kept thinking, uselessly, as it wouldn't bring him back to keep trying to find a reason why it had to be him.  
Gandalf was talking. Reading something, maybe, but the words didn't make any sense in his mind anymore. Or didn't want to make sense. He had forgotten how hard it was. To grieve, to mourn. Last time, it had been for an entire family, the uncle and his nephews : Thorin Oakenshield, Fili and Kili. But he hadn't been as close to them as he was to Balin.  
He was gotten out of his dark thoughts as the hand on his shoulder squeezed tightly and, apparently, involuntarily as the elf almost whispered an apology to him.  
"Drums in the deep. They are here…" the Wizard's words finally broke through the mist of his mind.  
"Yrch !" the elf let out in a breath.  
It took him some time to find the corresponding word in common language. Orcs ? There were Orcs in Moria ? As if a Balrog wasn't enough ! What kind curse had befallen on these mines ?  
"We will have to be careful. They may hide anywhere in this darkness." Boromir pointed out.  
"Indeed." Aragorn agreed, having had too many encounters with those monsters.  
"Pippin, no !" a voice shouted from behind them. They all turned their head, just in time to see Faramir preventing the young Hobbit to collide with an armed dwarven skeleton and to provoke its fall.

Faramir let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when he realised the skeleton hadn't fell. That was a close one. At least maybe they wouldn't have to deal with the Orcs and the cave troll in this room as he had seen it.  
"Be careful, young one. These mines are tricky." he told him, gently. Pippin hastily nodded, still shaking from the suddenness of the action.  
"I think it would be wise to leave this room while we can, don't you think ?" Sam asked in a slightly pressing tone, sounding rather scared by the place, which was highly understandable.  
"It would be wise, indeed." came Gandalf's reply, "We will head to the bridge of Khazad-Dûm, it should be the safest way."  
"Should ? Well that's encouraging." the humourous voice of Boromir echoed, in a futile attempt to enlighten the dark mood of the Fellowship. His brother rewarded him with a thin smile for the attempt.

Everything had happened too fast. They were walking on the path, at the edge of a Stone pit when the rock he had put his foot onto suddenly gave in. It was only thanks to his brother and Legolas' quick reflexes that Boromir had been saved from a deadly fall. But the rock was big and heavy, and the stone pit was still full of the tools and mechanisms the dwarves had used. It had hit another rock, which had hit the mechanism, which had broken under the weight, which had fell… And soon enough, it had seemed to the Fellowship that the sound was rezoning in the entire mountain.  
Gandalf had turned around to face them, his eyes filled with obvious panic.  
"Run."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies upon apologies for the little cliffhanger... Action will begin next chapter, I promise !


	7. Khazâd-Dûm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 7 ! Enjoy !

Running. Running. That was the only thing they had in mind. Drums in the deep. They were coming. Their battle cries were filling the Mines. Their weapons were smashing against the rocks.

Running.

  
The Hobbits had to be carried, for with their shorter legs, they couldn't follow the taller ones anymore. The bridge. It was there, right in front of them. They were so close. Just a few more steps. But the Orcs, even if they weren't very fast, were good climbers and before they could realise what was happening, they were blocked. They couldn't cross anymore.  
There were just too many of them, they were surrounded.  
"Protect the Hobbits !" Gandalf shouted, and less than a second later the companions were forming a circle with the Halflings in its center. They were too unprepared to fight the creatures, despite all the efforts they had put into training. This was just too much.

  
The Fellows were still very impressed to see Frodo grab his now blue knife and Sam his pan, just in case. Merry and Pippin, having got nothing to defend themselves, took some pieces of rock on the floor.  
There was a moment where the opponent's simply stared at each other, observing, studying. Legolas' and Faramir had armed their bow, every sword had been unsheathed. And then, without a warning, the foul beasts let out a terrible battle cry and charged, each of them crashing into the impenetrable wall of the Fellowship. The two bowmen had ducked arrow after arrow, but they were now forced to abandon it to sword and knives. Gandalf was using Glamdring with an impressive rapidity and precision for his advanced age. Gimli was more smashing than fighting his enemies, but that seemed to work just as well, if not better. Boromir, as usual, was slicing through the bodies with such a master and technique that he would have impressed even the greatest swordfighters of mankind. And Aragorn… Aragorn looked so alike to the Kings of old. So proud, so serene, yet his aim wasn't less deadly, on the contrary.  
The four Hobbits were looking at him so intently that one could have thought they had fallen under a spell.  
At first, the combat had seemed fair, but the Orcs were too many and had bowmen on their own. The companions were forced to both fight and deflect the incoming arrows. None of them was left completely unharmed and they were exhausted. But the number of their adversaries didn't seem to decrease much.

"Are you needing some help, Master Dwarf ?" Gimli heard a provoking voice calling. No need to foresee to guess it belonged to the elf.  
"Just take care of your own orcs, you showing-off cheeky pointy-eared creature !" came the sharp reply, still tainted with a tiny bit of humour. Gimli quickly turned his head back to his opponents, but he had been distracted for too long, and could only watch in horror as the creature in front of him brought down his blade to achieve him. He closed his eyes. This was going to be painful.  
'If I had known I would die standing side by side with an elf…'  
But as he felt no pain coming, he slowly lifted his eyelids, to find the creature, frozen in its position, an elven knife struck in its head. Gimli turned around to meet his saviour. Not only had he been about to die at the side of an elf, but he had just been saved by him.  
"Th-Thank you…" whispered timidly in shock. If there was something he hadn't been expecting, it was this.  
But misfortune upon misfortune, this had also distracted the elf from his own fight and, there again, the dwarf could only watch as the man who had just saved his life was hit deeply in the shoulder by an arrow and was forced to take a step back to regain his balance, staring in surprise at the dark weapon buried deep in his body.  
But they were fighting on the edge of a cliff. Only one bridge allowed you to cross it. And they had been slowly pushed back during the entire fight. The elf's foot met nothing but air, and there was still a deep look of misunderstanding on his face as his body fell backward. Time suddenly felt as if it had been put in slow motion.  
"Legolas !" came Aragorn's cry. But the man was surrounded by three Orcs and couldn't move away, so we're the others.  
Faster than he could have ever imagined, Gimli cut his opponent's head off and rushed to where his companion had fallen, kneeling, sending a silent prayer to Aulë for the elf to have survived somehow.

He barely registered as his Fellows finally managed, Mahal knows how, to reform a kind of circle behind him. He moved his head over the edge… 'Oh ! Aulë !' was the only thought he could form in his mind as he saw a hand, grasping the rock tightly, a few inches under him.  
"Legolas !" he called, handing out his hand, "Grab my hand !"  
The elf glanced up at him, a look of pain passing on his face as he tried to lift up his injured arm.  
'Curse it !' Gimli couldn't help but think as he saw how hard it was for the elf to reach him. He needed help, but his companions had other problems to face right now, having momentarily lost two of their warriors, and asking one of the halflings would just make things worse.

  
"C'mon lad. If the elves are as strong as you say, you can do this…" he tried to put some challenge in his voice. It clearly wasn't the moment, but if it could add a little extra-boost to the elf, it was worth a try.  
Slowly, letting out soft grunts and gasps of pain, the elf lifted his arm.  
"That's it ! Almost there !" the dwarf encouraged.  
And he was forced to admit he let out a huge sigh of relief as he felt the soft and sweaty hand of the elf closing on his own, despite the painful cry he let out.  
"That's it. Hang on now, I've got you."  
Hardly, the dwarf tried to lift him up, but despite the light weight of his kind, Legolas' hand was slowly slipping out of his own and the dwarf had his other hand holding the stone cliff, to avoid falling with his companion. He was losing his grip, and there was nothing he could do about it.  
"Master Dwarf !" the elf called him weakly in a pained voice, "You have to let me go. It is hopeless."  
"Don't you dare !" he shouted back stubbornly.  
"Master Dwarf…"  
"NO !" he cut off. He couldn't let go. There was no way. He had just saved his life… Yet, the situation seemed rather hopeless, indeed.  
But, as he felt the hand slip a little more in his own and heard the elf let out another cry of pain, he heard a small voice next to him :  
"Mister Legolas ! Grab this, Sir !"  
The dwarf turned around to see Sam, crouching next to him, his feet held by Merry, handing out his bag the the fallen elf. Gimli them felt two pairs of hands gripping his own ankle and heard the voice of Frodo.  
"Grab his wrist with both hands, we hold you !"  
Without wasting any time, Gimli caught the elven wrist, making him yell out in pain again, and waited for the elf to grab Sam's pack before ordering :  
"Pull him up."  
And less than ten seconds later, after various cries, grunts and gasps, everyone was back on the safe ground.  
"Legolas, mellon-nîn, are you alright ?" Aragorn's almost panicked voice asked. The man hadn't stopped glancing back during the whole saving, having been nearly hit by doing so.  
"I have been better, but I will survive." came the weak and pained reply.  
To Gimli, it was a wonder the elf hadn't pass out. If his skin was naturally pale, the Prince now looked as a living dead.  
But unfortunately, the dwarf didn't have time to worry too much about it. They were outnumbered and his companions needed help.  
"You four !" he told the Hobbits, "See that he doesn't move from here. He is in no way fit for a fight."  
"But…" the elf tried to argue.  
"No ! Your face is even paler than snow itself. It would be suicide." he cut off on a tone that admitted no discussion. Were all elves so stubborn ?  
"But you will need help…"  
"And we do not have time to watch over an injured suicidal elf. You stay here. The. End." he stated and turned around to face back his opponents. They had nearly killed the elf, they would be paying for this.  
"Master Dwarf ?" the elf called once more.  
"What now ?" he asked, irritated.  
"Thank you."  
The dwarf's mouth hung open in surprise. Had he just thanked him ?  
"I… It's nothing. You saved me first and I wasn't alone."

Boromir seemed unstoppable, but Faramir was forced to admit he felt his forces decreasing by the minute. He still hadn't completely recovered from his past foresight. Besides, he had never been an incredibly good swordsman, and now his movements were becoming slower, which mad him an easier target.  
The huge amount of stress he had felt when Legolas had fallen had really left him weary.  
"I have bad news," he heard his brother's voice, but couldn't face him, for the number of Orcs attacking him was too big, "They have a cave troll."  
At the same time, Faramir heard an very loud cry and was forced to see the gigantic beast making its way toward them. At least, it seemed to be killing and throwing in the air numerous Orcs. Clumsy beast.  
But soon, too soon, it was on them and they had to deal both with the remaining Orcs (the others had backed off slightly, to avoid being killed too), and the enormous arms of the creature slicing the air blindly. Faramir quickly retrieved back his bow and ducked him an arrow in the throat, in an attempt to distract him and give his Fellows an opening to attack it. Unfortunately, it only seemed to make it angrier and the man didn't have time to escape the arm that smashed his chest, knocking the breath out of him, making him fly away and crash into the mountain wall.

"FARAMIR !" Boromir shouted as he saw his brother being thrown one the rocks and falling limply on the ground. He wanted to rush to him, but couldn't find a way to avoid the beast.  
At least it seemed to have been slightly weakened by the arrow buried in his jugular.  
"Boromir ! Gimli !" Aragorn's voice called him, "On my mark, grab its chains and pull."  
The man and dwarf nodded, but this was easier said than done, for the chains were on him arms, and he kept throwing them blindly to hit them.  
But, at the same moment, they heard Gandalf declaiming a spell and suddenly, the troll froze.  
"Now !" Aragorn ordered.  
They just had Tim to pull his chains before it came moving again.  
But the sudden pulling had made him lose his balance and quickly, the beast fell in the abyss.  
Boromir immediately rushed to his brother when he saw the remaining Orcs charging him. But he was too far and they were too close.  
"No !" he shouted in despair as he knew he couldn't reach him in time.  
But suddenly, a loud noise came from deep inside the mountain and soon, flames enlighten the entire stone pit. The Orcs turned to stare at it and immediately ran away. Boromir stared at them in surprise before resuming his running to kneel by his brother's side.  
"Brother ? Can you hear me ?"  
Faramir's eyes fluttered open and it took them a few moments to focus. Concussion, maybe ?  
"Hurry up, Boromir ! We have to cross the bridge before it's too late !" Gandalf's scared voice reached him.  
Without wasting a minute, Boromir took his brother over his shoulder and rushed to the rest of the Fellowship, he didn't have the time to lift him upright, those flames were auguring nothing good. Not did the Wizard's scared voice.

Aragorn was supporting a very weak and pained Legolas, looking even paler than before.  
As soon as he met them, they hastily crossed the bridge of Khazad-Dûm, the Hobbits following as well as they could. Rocks were falling everywhere and they had to dodge them every second, the flames were growing even brighter and they heard a loud roar coming from behind them  
"Don't slow down !" Gandalf cried.  
"What is that thing ?" Boromir asked, slightly frightened.  
"The Balrog…" Legolas answered painfully.  
Boromir's eyes opened widely. That was the thing that could probably take the Wizard's life away ?  
Again, they ran and ran, avoiding the holes in the floor and the falling stone. The place was getting hotter by the minute and the roaring seemed to grow closer.  
But eventually, they saw light, right in front of them. They were almost there… Just a few more steps. The roaring was close, too close, but they knew they could make it. They had been stopped once, they wouldn't be a second time. Not this time.  
With all the power of their will, they could finally get past the doors, just as they saw the monstrous face appear behind them. Born of shadow and flame. The Balrog.  
When he was sure everyone was out, Gandalf turned to face the monster and raised his staff.  
"You shall not pass !"  
A light came out of it and hit the cellar above the tenebrous beast, making it break on it and sealing the exit.

  
Everyone allowed themselves to fall on their back, breathing for the first time since they had entered the Mines, the pure air of the outside world. Everyone could have sworn they saw Legolas' face gain back some colour, which soon drained back as Aragorn began to inspect the arrow wound in his shoulder. The man took some herbs from his pack and, clean cloth and a leather strap, which he made Legolas take in his mouth. He then grabbed the arrow with both hands.  
"On three. One. Two…"  
A huge cry escaped the Elf's lips, muffled by the strap in his mouth, as the man took the arrow out of his shoulder. Aragorn quickly applied the herbs on the open wound and wrapped it tightly in the cloth.  
"Dihenog nin, mellon-nîn." Aragorn apologies to him, wincing at the look of pain on his friend's face. The Elf shook his head, in a way of telling him it was nothing.  
"What h-happened… To three ?" he still asked humourously, which made the man laugh.

Boromir, who had finally put his now unconscious brother on the ground, was now gently shaking him, trying to awake him, surrounded by both Merry and Pippin.  
When he finally did, again, it took some time for his eyes to focus on Boromir's ones and, when they did, a look of misunderstanding passed on his face as Pippin literally jumped to his neck.  
"Did I miss something ?" he asked, confused.  
"I think you might have missed pretty much everything, actually." Boromir answered him, smiling.  
Pippin eventually released his embrace, and took a step back, eyes filled with joy.  
Faramir suddenly sat up, grasping Boromir's shoulder as he felt dizziness coming to his head.  
"Faramir, what is it ?" he asked, concerned.  
"Gandalf ? Where is Gandalf ?" Faramir asked him hurriedly.  
"I am right here, young man." the Wizard answered, coming out of nowhere, "Whatever you did, it worked." he added, a bright smile on his face.  
The man felt a huge wave of relief filling his heart. It had worked. Mithrandir was here, safe and sound. He had done it. He smiled back at the Wizard, all concern having now left his heart.  
"Faramir, are you alright ?" Aragorn asked coming to him, still supporting Legolas and followed by Gimli, Frodo and Sam.  
"I think he may have a concussion," Boromir answered for him. It was true, he could hardly make his eyes to focus on something for more than ten seconds.

The man kneeled, observing Faramir intently, searching for the symptoms of the concussion.

"He is concussed, indeed, but his pupils aren't much dilated for now but it might get worse. We will have to be careful."

He got up again

"Alright. Gandalf ?" the man called the Wizard, his voice worried and febrile, "We should head to Lothlórien quickly, we all are injured and I am afraid that Legolas' wound might be poisoned. The herbs will slow its effect but he will need a healer quickly. So will Faramir." he explained hurriedly. Faramir had never seen him so close to panic.  
"I agree. We shall leave now, so we may arrive before nightfall." the Wizard stated, his voice sounding worried too.  
Very slowly, Boromir helped his brother up who closed his eyes at the dizziness. It had been a strong hit apparently.  
"Faramir ?" he heard the small voice of Frodo calling him.  
"Yes ?"  
"Thank you. For saving Gandalf."  
The man smiled at him.

Mellon-nîn : My Friend  
Dihenog nin : Forgive me


	8. The Golden Woods of Lórien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hem... Honestly, I don't know what to think of this chapter. I suffered a bit of writer's block, I'm afraid... Sorry if it didn't turn out very well.
> 
> There are also Sindarin sentences in this chapter, but all the translations will be at the end of the sentences this time.
> 
> I hope it's not too bad...

Legolas was getting worse, quickly. Too quickly. There was no doubt now that his wound had been poisoned, for the veins around it were turning an evil black. His arm was completely useless now and his body was becoming weaker and weaker. Aragorn had to carry more than support him and, even if the Elf felt bad about admitting it, he had already passed out a few times and it was getting harder to wake him up when he did. An effect of the blood loss surely, for his wound kept stubbornly bleeding out, no matter how hard Aragorn tried to make it stop.  
And, since a few dozen minutes, he had began to mumble incoherent word in his native tongue, and his fever had grown much too high, which had increased the worry of the Fellowship and had forced them to walk even faster.

As for Faramir, even if his state wasn't as concerning as Legolas', the man had a suffered from a massive headache since they had begun to walk. But the major problem wasn't there. He had had another vision, of Sauron and the Palantìr. And he had unfortunately discovered that foreseeing with a concussion was highly painful and drained a huge amount of strength. He had passed out too and his condition seemed to have worsen. Indeed, according to Aragorn, his pupils were now completely dilated, his eyes perfectly unfocused and he had started to develop a slight fever. As soon as he got up again, the world began to spin and blur, and he had had to bring a hand to his mouth to avoid vomiting. It had never stopped since. And the man couldn't avoid his foggy mind to wonder if he had done well by preventing Gandalf's death, for they now risked to lose the Elf instead. What if he had done the wrong thing ? But that kind of dark thinking didn't help in any way the pounding in his head to lessen.  
Though it was hard to admit, it seemed now that getting to Lothlórien was a question of life or death.  
It was obvious to everyone that Aragorn was deeply worried for both Legolas and Faramir, but more especially about the Elf. They had known each other for a very long time and the thought of losing him seemed unbearable.  
"Darthog na men, mellon-nîn, listo." [Stay with us, my friend, please.] he kept whispering into his ear, voice trembling with worry.  
Most of the time, he was only answered with incoherent Elvish mumblings, but some rare times, he managed to give him a full sentence :  
"Im albaded erias, Estel…" [I am not going anywhere, Estel].  
Gimli remained by his side too, feeling guilty for what had happened, even if the Elf had kept repeating him that he was the one that distracted him in the first place. While Frodo and Sam walked next to Aragorn, trying to comfort him, Merry and Pippin walked by Boromir and Faramir.  
"We're almost there, Faramir. You'll see, you're going to be fine." Merry told the man, to reassure all four of them.  
Gandalf was the silent leader of their progression, turning around sometimes to make sure everyone was still following and to check on the injured's state, trying not to show how worried he was for both of them.

Everyone breathed out in relief as they eventually entered the Golden Woods. It seemed, now that the worst part was behind them.  
But they weren't completely out of danger for, as if finally allowing his weak body to rest, Legolas' suddenly went limp in Aragorn's arms.  
"Legolas !" both the man and Gimli cried in sudden fear as their fallen friend started to tremble uncontrollably.  
Hearing them, Gandalf turned around ran to where Aragorn was sitting on the ground, holding the trembling Elf in his arms, surrounded by the two shocked Hobbits and Gimli.  
"What's happening to him ?" the dwarf asked hurriedly.  
"His heart is beating too fast…" the man answered, his hands shaking as he gently brushed the Elf's hair out of his face. "Gandalf ?" he continued as he turned his face to the kneeled Wizard with wet eyes, "I do not know if we will make it in time…"  
A gasp escaped Frodo's mouth and the young Hobbit burst out into tears.  
"It's my fault, it's all my fault… If I hadn't chosen Moria…"  
Sam grabbed him by his shoulders and turned his face to him.  
"None of this is your fault, Mister Frodo. If you hadn't chosen Moria, surely more of us would have been injured. You're not the one who attacked him."  
Gandalf put a hand on the Ring-bearer's shoulder and gave him a comforting smile. Then, most unexpectedly, the Wizard simply closed his eyes and muttered in his beard :  
"Lasto nin, Hiril-nîn…" [Hear me, my Lady…]  
After a few moments, the old man finally opened his eyes and his lips curved into a sad smile as he looked at both Aragorn and Boromir, still holding his disoriented and weak brother.  
"Help is on the way."

Indeed, less than a minute later, the Fellowship was met by a small group of eight armoured Elves, led by three blond ones.  
"Haldir, Rùmil, Orophin, le suilon ! Nannel brêg." [Haldir, Rùmil, Orophin, I greet thee ! You were quick.] Gandalf got up and greeted them thankfully.  
"Nannenc tired bo in edrain, alhaeron gwachae o sì." [We were patrolling on the borders, not far away from here.] the seemingly older one explained, "Nannenc narad boemmelir grest, manna i rhû ?" [We have been told you needed help, what is the matter ?] he then asked, but his voice trailed off as he saw the Elven Prince tremblingly lying in the Ranger's arms.  
"Manhìdant ?" [What happened ?] his voice was frantic as he kneeled by Legolas' side and put a hand on his forehead, wincing at the unnatural heat that radiated from it. Slowly, the Elf's tremors calmed down.  
"Yrch." [Orcs.] Aragorn finally answered, lowering his head almost guiltily. Haldir put a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him comfortingly :  
"Altrassog, e nuin i Hiril Galadriel-în heru, hí. Natha lhind, Estel." [Do not worry, he is under the Lady Galadriel's protection, now. He will be fine Estel.]  
The man nodded apparently relieved slightly.  
"Manna i Gorn cared sì ?" [What is this dwarf doing here ?] one of the other blond haired Elves asked Gandalf, pointing at Gimli with one of his knives.  
"E sath en i Gwadorath." [He is part of the Fellowship] the Wizard answered and, seeing the frown on the ellon's face, he added "E nathant cuil-tîn, Rùmil." [He saved his life, Rùmil]  
To that, the ellon only answered with a look of pure disbelief.

Faramir gasped as the hammers in his mind became even more powerful. His mind was unconsciously trying to translate the Sindarin sentences, and it didn't seem to do any good.  
Just after that, his mind just shut down, and he vaguely heard the Elf who had been kneeling next to Legolas' finally still body talk to Mithrandir, who apparently answered him. But he couldn't hear them clearly, for the only thing he heard now was the constant pounding in his head. He barely registered as the younger blond Elf came to him and helped his brother half-supporting, half-carrying him as they began to walk, or run maybe, into the spinning forest.

The Elves and men were quickly gone out of sight and Gandalf found himself with the two only remaining Elves sentinels, the Hobbits and Gimli, who looked awfully tensed.  
"Calm yourself, Master Gimli, They are in good care." the Wizard told him, trying to look reassuring.  
"Are you sure ? I don't like these elves…" the dwarf answered grumpily. Gandalf couldn't avoid the small laugh that escaped him, which he quickly silenced as he caught the questioning glance the sentinels gave him.  
"I would have been surprised if you did."  
The dwarf grunted something in his beard that did not sound very courteous and walked ahead of them, almost sulking. Gandalf smiled, and turned his head to Frodo as he noticed him rubbing his chest, wincing.  
"Frodo ? Is there something wrong ?" he asked him, frowning in concern.  
"I don't know, Gandalf, but it's like… I don't know, It feels out of place… And it is like someone was helping me to carry It." the young Hobbit tried to explain.  
"I think that is pretty much it, young Hobbit." Gandalf smiled.

Slowly, Legolas opened his eyes. He was in a bed. A soft and warm bed. In a tree, maybe. He could see the sky and its stars through the branches. A small light was spreading in the room. As memories finally came back to him, he closed his fingers, testing his arm. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt much. At least not as much as he thought it would. He tried to lift it, and groaned slightly at the pain.  
"Anno san lû." [Give it time] a voice on his left told him. He would have recognised it between a thousand others.  
"Se-Sellenya..?" he called weakly in recognition.  
She came to him and put a hand on his shoulder, which he caught gently in his own.  
"Im sì, meleth-nîn. Ech barn." [I am here, my love, you are safe] she whispered, brushing his long hair out of his face.  
"A in eleg ?" [And the others ?] he asked hurriedly.  
"Ith lhind. Ith haust. Altrassog." [They are fine. They are resting. Do not worry]  
The Elf rested his head back in the pillow and closed his eyes, but not asleep. He had slept enough already.  
And so they remained there, in silence, Legolas'fingers gently caressing his Lady's ones. He looked at her again. She hadn't changed at all since last time, in Imladris. Deep blue eyes, just like her father, long waving brown hair, so alike to her mother's.  
"Naman le mathad ?" [How are you feeling ?] she asked softly.  
"Maer." [Better] he gave the simple answer, smiling fondly at her. She smiled back.  
"Nabant savemmog nin thossui." [You almost had me worried] she told him in a light tone.  
"Han alna innas-nîn." [That wasn't my intent] he retorted, already knowing the answer she would give him. It had been so long...  
"Mae, harthon hai !" [Well, I hope so !] she replied, laughing, before adding :  
"Le fair an tíra ti ?" [Do you feel ready to see them ?]  
"Man ?" [Who ?] He asked, quite confused. His mind wasn't working as fast as usual, it seemed.  
"In neder gwaith savon cared Mithrandir cesta ir tírannenc le nannog ecuinnad." [The nine people I have made Mithrandir look for when we saw you were waking up.] she answered, a bright smile on her face.  
Legolas smiled back, but still, deep inside, a part of him was hesitant : it had been such a long time since they hadn't had the opportunity to talk to each other alone… But he also knew how worried the others should be… And he could not make them wait any longer.  
"Sinnen, im na." [Of course I am.]

Faramir stared in surprise as he finally came into recognition of the Elleth standing by Legolas' side and holding his hand. It was her. The Lady he had met in Rivendell.  
And as she looked into his eyes, he simply bowed to her, smiling, before joining the rest of the Fellowship by Legolas' side, who was currently half-chocking from Aragorn's overly tight embrace.  
"Do not ever scare me like that again, mellon-nîn !"  
"I will do my best."  
"You better !" Gimli laughed, finally relieved to see the elf out of any danger.  
After a few moments rejoicing, Legolas eventually turned his face to Faramir, taking notice of the bandages around his head.  
"And yourself, how are you fairing, my Lord ?" he asked him.  
'Did he just talked to me with more than one monosyllabic word ? Surely an effect from the poisoning.' the man couldn't help but think.  
"Much better, thank you. I am glad to see you awake." he answered a polite smile on his face, and couldn't help but notice the smile on Boromir's face too. The discussions then carried on, the Hobbits telling about their first encounter with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn the past day, to which the man hadn't been present. Yet he very well remembered his brother's saddened face when he had came back. But they hadn't talked about it. Yet. And now the sad face had been replaced by laughter as Gimli and Legolas had started a new 'argument'.  
But Faramir wasn't taking much part in the cheerful discussions. He was troubled. And by the face both Gandalf and the Lady gave him, they had noticed it. He had saved Gandalf's life, but that had almost cost them the life of Legolas instead. What if he had made things worse ? What if he had made the wrong choice ?  
Suddenly, as if she had been reading his thoughts all time long, he heard the Elleth's voice in his mind.  
'Come and meet me here, this morning, at first daylight. Lady Galadriel wishes to speak with you about this.'  
The man looked at her in surprise. So it was true some Elves were capable to talk into one's mind…  
She discreetly brought a finger to her lips, indicating this had to be kept secret, so he nodded.

The man awoke just before dawn and immediately headed to his rendezvous point, careful not to awake anyone, where he found the Elleth and Legolas, already standing, seemingly in a very rejoicing discussion. Immediately understanding he was too early, he took a few dozen steps back and waited. Observing his surroundings. This place was so calm, so fair. The only remaining truly peaceful one in Middle Earth. The first sunlights were gently reflecting on the golden leaves in the trees, enlightening the entire land, spreading a gentle warmness around Faramir. He breathed in deeply. This was the exact opposite of Moria.  
The man forced himself not to hear the conversation behind him, but he still involuntarily heard the words 'Adar' and 'Reniog', sail. He understood now why the blond Elf had been so distant during the whole journey. He was longing for someone. A female someone to be more precise. And maybe he was a little jealous. Elves could be so proud when they wanted to, and still had trouble trusting mankind. Except Aragorn, apparently. But it was different. He had been raised by Elves after all.  
"Lord Faramir ?" the voice startled him.  
"Yes ? he answered, turning around to face the Lady.  
"This way," she indicated, handing out her arm to show him the way.

They eventually arrived on a large platform, on top of the great tree. Gandalf was there, smiling at the man when he arrived. Then, she appeared in front of him, shining, proud, the perfect mix of beauty and mystery. Her sea blue eyes landed on his own. He lowered his head, unable to stand it.  
"Mae govannen, Faramir, son of Denethor." [Welcome] her crystal clear voice greeted him.  
"H-Hannon-le…" he thanked, voice shaking in amazement.  
"Take a sit," she offered, pointing him a lonely chair in the center of the platform.  
He bowed his head, timidly and sat. Mithrandir, Lady Galadriel and the mysterious Lady he didn't even know the name were standing right in front of him, and the man had to admit he was feeling slightly afraid. Galadriel took a step toward him and studied him intently. Here again, he could do nothing but lower his eyes before her. After a few minutes, she finally spoke in a light, echoing voice.  
"I have been told you experienced foresights. Such a gift is rare amongst men, but that doesn't much surprise me, since your regretted mother came from Dol Amroth. I can feel Elven blood is flowing through your veins."  
Faramir's mouth fell open in surprise. How could she know ?  
"Tell me about it." she ordered in a gentle yet high tone.  
"Well… I…"  
Honestly, he had no idea what to say. Everything was completely confused.  
"When it happens, what do you feel ?" the brown haired lady helped him, a comforting smile on her face.  
"I… I feel what is about to happen." he finally answered.  
"Meaning ?" Gandalf asked, without a hint of impatience.  
"When I sense someone's death… I feel how it is supported to happen. For my mother, I felt my heart stop… And for my brother, I felt the arrows hitting me."  
He didn't talk about Gandalf. He didn't want to. Not in front of him.  
"But when it is not about that," he continued his explanation, "I just hear voices in my head."  
"And after that ?" Galadriel asked him, curiously.  
"I… pass out. And most of the time, I find myself as a spectator of the scene. But sometimes, it is very less clear, and I have to find what might happen by myself."  
"Like for the Council of Elrond, I imagine." The White Lady guessed.  
Faramir nodded. He hadn't told anything about that to her…  
She studied him again, very intently.  
"Has anything changed lately ?" she then asked him, her brows slightly furrowed, looking suddenly very suspicious.  
"I… Yes… They are more intense, as if I had lost all control Mithrandir had made me gain on it in the past."  
Galadriel closed her eyes, taking Faramir's hand into her own.  
"Since when ?" Gandalf asked hurriedly.  
"Four months ago, I would've said. Since I dreamt of the Council."  
Immediately after, the White Lady's eyes shot open and she jerked back from him, fear written all over her face.  
"Sauron…" she whispered before adding more loudly, addressing both Gandalf and the Lady :  
"We have to act quickly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the little cliffie... And I hope it wasn't too bad...Also, from now on, I think I'll be updating on Wednesdays and Sundays, 'cause unfortunately, my teachers have discovered how virtual classrooms worked, so I'm afraid I'll have to work more than I did...Tell me if it's okay for you, and again, if you have any idea, tell me !  
> Thank y'all again for all the kind feedback, you're awesome !


	9. Caras Galadhon

"Sauron ? What do you mean ? The young man asked immediately, sensing that something was very wrong.  
The three persons in front of him looked at each other hesitantly, but eventually, the elleth kneeled before him and took his hand.  
"My Lord, this is going to be difficult to hear…" she told him, looking sad and concerned.  
"G-Go ahead…"  
The man felt fear growing inside him. This was bad… Very bad…  
"It seems… That Sauron is influencing or trying to influence you through your foresights since you have been dreaming of the Council." she continued, squeezing comfortingly his hand into her own.  
Faramir suddenly felt as if the world around him began to crumble. Did… Did that mean that, by doing what he thought was right, he had, in fact, accomplished Sauron's will ? Did that mean that he might have unknowingly condemned Middle Earth ?  
"No…" he weakly whispered in guilt and despair.  
'What have I done ? Father was right, I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have. This is all my fault. Father was right. I am weak, useless…' he kept thinking over and over, feeling completely lost and guilty. Over guilty.  
But then, as if reading his mind, Galadriel spoke :  
"Do not blame yourself, young man, for we cannot know at the moment what Sauron did exactly. He may have succeeded, He may have failed, He may have just observed or tested you. The only thing we know is that He is here, and we have to get Him out and prevent Him from coming back."  
"But… What if I had just condemned Middle Earth to an endless bane ?" he asked, voice shaking from both fear and regret, as he felt tears forming in his eyes.  
"You haven't." Galadriel simply told him.  
"H-How can you know ?"  
She just smiled at him.

The next hours felt completely unreal into Faramir's mind. Sometimes peaceful, but often painful.  
"Close your eyes… Look for it… Feel it. Feel it approaching… Study it…"  
"Again."  
"Do not try to get away from it, you would make things worse. Welcome it, let it fill your mind… Go inside it… Deeper…"  
"Try again."  
"Good. Now find Him."  
"Once more."  
Eventually, the man found it, in the back of his mind. A deep darkness… It called him… It was offering help… Maybe… Maybe he could… Just try… To touch it… Only once… Maybe it could help him...  
"Push Him away ! Now !" the lightened voice brought him back to reality. It was Sauron ! How could he think he might have possibly helped him ?  
He tried, with all his will and power to push him away, but it turned into flames immediately  
Faramir gasped. He was too strong. He was hurting him ! He was burning his mind !  
"Mithrandir, Sellenya ! Boe grest !" [He needs help !] he vaguely registered the voice of Galadriel.  
'Why are you doing this, Faramir ? Trying to gain your father's love ?' a deep, loud, painful voice suddenly echoed in his mind. 'It is useless. You know it. Your father doesn't love you, you are too weak. Just like your mother. He will never love you, he hates you. Just like your brother.'  
"N-No…"  
'Yes. You know that too. "Father was wise not to trust you", remember ? He told this to you.'  
Faramir felt a tear rolling down his cheek. His brother loved him. He was wrong. It was because of the Ring, it wasn't him.  
"Alnidh men lad mi, Hiril-nîn !" [He won't let us in, my Lady !] a distant voice cried.  
'It was him who spoke. That elf lied to you. You are too weak to please them.'  
"No, no, no, no…"  
His mind was a mess. He didn't want to believe Him, he couldn't… And yet… What if He was right ? What if it was true ?  
The flames before him then took the form of a handsome shining Elf, smiling gently at him and handing him out his hand.  
'Join me. Help me. I need you. I know how powerful you are inside. I will make you the strongest man on Middle Earth. Your father and brother will be forced to see it. They will love you, forever. You won't be useless to them anymore.'  
Faramir wanted to say yes, it was so tempting… He seemed so trustful…  
'Ash nazg durbatulûk…' he heard another voice calling.  
He brought his hand, closer. His father would love him… Finally…  
'Ash nazg gimbatul…'  
It would be over… He would be useful…  
'Ash nazg thrakatulûk…'  
"FARAMIR !"  
Closer… Their fingers were nearly touching themselves...  
'Agh burzum ishi krimpatul !'  
As he felt the fingers of the shining figure close around his, his body involuntarily jerked back and his mind was filled by a bright and pure light.  
"DADWEN ! Dadwen an dúath ! Avog thaw son !" [Go back ! Go back to darkness ! You shall not corrupt him !] a high and pure voice shouted. Immediately the shining form turned back into flames and tried to attack the light but He wasn't strong enough.  
Both He and Faramir cried as He was pushed back and was forced to leave his mind.  
The man's eyes snapped open to find the shaking and sweating form of the Elleth, a hand on his forehead, Lady Galadriel and Gandalf holding her shoulders, eyes closed.  
Faramir inhaled sharply making the others open their eyes. The elleth had to take a step back to regain her balance, seemingly exhausted.  
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" he kept repeating, locked in his chair, unable to move.  
"Do not be, son of Denethor," Galadriel reassured him, "You are still recovering from a head wound. Your strengths are diminished."  
But it felt as if the man wasn't hearing.  
"I couldn't resist Him… I almost joined Him…"  
Gandalf put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
"In the past, even the High Elves have not been able to resist Him. No blame falls on your shoulders."  
"But I…"  
"No," the Elleth interrupted firmly, "You did not join Him. What you tried to do or almost did doesn't matter."  
Faramir lowered his head in defeat. Despite all their words, he felt so weak. That made him so dangerous. And Sauron knew it. Sauron… He would be back… And this time, Gandalf would be the only one who could help him...  
"Can you take it away from me ?" he asked Galadriel, crying in deep despair and fear.  
"What ?" Mithrandir asked, misunderstanding.  
"Foreseeing, can you get it out of me ?"  
The Wizard looked at him in shock, but the look on the White Lady's face was one of complete understanding and compassion.  
"I understand your fear, son of Denethor, but foreseeing is a gift that cannot be taken back. Do not be afraid of yourself. You are much stronger than you think."  
Faramir nodded, still not completely convinced. What if he still failed ? Like his Father always told him he would ?  
"You will do well, do not worry, for you are not alone. We will keep an eye on you." Galadriel told him, reading his thoughts once more.  
"If I can help you bear this burden, I will." said Gandalf putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
The man bowed his head.  
"Now, please, excuse us, for Mithrandir and I have to discuss. Sellenya will escort you back." the White Lady added, bowing her head slightly.  
Faramir got up and had to close his eyes as he was suddenly overtook by both exhaustion and dizziness. Fortunately, it disappeared as fast as it came.  
"Are you feeling well ?" Sellenya asked him in a slightly raspy voice. She looked exhausted, and Faramir couldn't help but think it was his fault.  
"I am, thank you. And yourself ?"  
"A bit weary, but fine." she answered, trying to sound reassuring, smiling at him, but that didn't prevent the man from wincing in guilt. Seeing it, the elleth handed him out her hand.  
"Come. I think you need to rest."  
Almost like a living dead, Faramir grabbed her hand and they slowly made they way down.  
"Mithrandir, Hiril-nîn ?" he still called, turning to face the two tall figures behind him.  
"Yes ?" they both answered at the same time.  
"Hannon-le." [Thank you] he thanked, his lips curving into a weak smile  
"Nog maedol." [You're welcome]

"I will make someone bring you a collation. You must be starving."  
Only at that moment, did Faramir realize that the sun was already beginning to set, and that he was, indeed, starving.  
"If… You do not mind."  
"No, no, of course not." she told him reassuringly, smiling. Yet she still look exhausted…  
"I am so sorry, for what happened back there."  
he barely whispered, lowering his head in guilt. It was his fault. If he had been stronger…  
"No, no !" she told him, getting closer and gently grabbing his shoulders, "Please, stop blaming yourself for it. This wasn't your fault."  
Her voice was comforting and seemingly truthful, but a small darkness in the very back of the man's mind was doubtful, afraid, suspicious, no obvious reason why. It was just… a feeling.  
"Faramir ?" Sellenya brought him out of his thoughts, sensing he was troubled, "May I talk to you about something ?" she asked, sounding both concerned and hesitant.  
"Please." he agreed without truly thinking, he had other things in mind and wasn't paying much attention.  
"I… I couldn't help but hear what Sauron told you… about your relationship with your father…" she told him in a very unassured voice.  
"Oh…" Faramir let out, finally focusing back on the conversation, turning his head to the sky as he felt tears coming to his eyes from the dark memory. It had been a most trying experience…  
The elleth cleared her throat in obvious discomfort before continuing :  
"I… I just wanted to tell you… that your father does love you, even if he doesn't show much of it."  
An embarrassed silence settled between them, broken only by Faramir's shaking voice :  
"And how can you be so sure ?" asked the man, voice filled with sadness and resignation, but also tainted with a thin amount of curiosity at what the Lady would answer him.  
"He is afraid," she finally answered after a small hesitation, "Your father cared deeply about your mother, and her death devastated him. He doesn't want to go through this again. And, to him, you are so alike to her… And she was so fragile… This is why he treats you as weak, so that you will train harder, and harder, so that you will become stronger than she was. This is also the reason why he is egotistically trying not to care about you as much as your brother. Because he knows your death would be unbearable. To him, it would've meant that he had failed, that he was responsible, and he knows it would destroy him. Again. And in his selfish mind, forcing himself not to love you is the only way for him to bear your passing. Because he is sure that day will come, no matter how hard you trained or how much he tried to protect you…"  
Faramir stared at her in, lips trembling, eyes full of tears. They remained here, silent, staring at each other. Faramir was troubled, deeply. He felt as if his entire life had been a lie, as if it had never truly existed. His thoughts were a mess, nothing made sense anymore. He took a long breath, trying to ease his shaking before asking :  
"Y-You mean that… H-He does all of this… t-to me… out of love ?"  
The Lady slowly nodded and the man finally burst out into tears.

"You will have to be very careful, mellon-nîn. Sauron got inside his head once, he will try again."  
"I know that… And apparently, he has found his weakness…"  
"Sellenya should be taking care of this."  
"How ?"  
"She has been through the same thing."  
"Answer me, honestly, do you think he will be strong enough ?"  
"We will be there to help him."  
"That wasn't the answer I was looking for…"  
"Only future will tell…"


	10. The Mirror of Galadriel

"Whoa, whoa ! Where do you think you're goin' ?"  
The Elf turned around to find a very angry dwarf standing behind him. Legolas gave him a surprised and misunderstanding look.  
"Well… I am currently seeking for a tree branch that would allow me to rest on, if you are interested…" he answered quite hesitantly. What a weird question to ask… And why did his answer seemed to anger him even more ?  
"What ?! Are you seriously thinkin' about climbin' a tree ?!" the dwarf yelled at him, seemingly shocked. Again, Legolas glared at him confusedly.  
"I was indeed, yes. Why ?" he asked quite amused by the dwarf's strange reaction.  
"Why ?! You are askin' me why ?! You were half-dead less than a day ago, that's why !"  
At his answer, Legolas' look was quickly replaced by an irritated one. He wasn't an Elfling anymore, and he was feeling just fine, the pain in his shoulder was almost gone ! He was able to take decisions by himself ! Besides, a dwarf had never been able to stop a Wood Elf from climbing a tree, and that would not happen today !  
He was about to give him a sharp reply, but was interrupted by a manly voice he immediately recognised as Estel's.  
"He is right, Legolas', your shoulder is not fully healed yet. It needs to rest."  
"But…" he tried but cut himself off when the Ranger gave him The look. He could act kingly when he wanted to, after all. Gimli couldn't stifle a laugh when he saw the elf faltering under the man's gaze.  
"Let's find a branch to rest under, shall we ?" the man proposed, gently patting Legolas' good shoulder and chuckling at the sight of the Elf's disappointed face. But it was surely for the best, for the Elf had some tendancy to be slightly careless when it came to injuries… Yet the other times, he would have argued for at least a good ten minutes before giving up… That was surprising… And the man couldn't help but notice there was a new light in his eyes. A joyful one.  
'Enjoy this, mellon-nîn, for I am afraid it won't last long...'

"Where on Arda have you been ? I was worrying." Boromir asked hurriedly as he saw the form of his brother approaching. He was sitting under the branches of a large and low tree with the rest of the Fellowship (Legolas included, even if his eyes were glazed in sleep). The sun was completely set by now.  
The man quickly noticed from his walk that something was wrong. And that thought proved right as he saw the reddened eyes his brother wore.  
He immediately ran forward to him and grabbed his shoulders.  
His eyes looked completely absent…  
"Brother, what happened ?"  
"Nothing, I… I think I need to rest…" he whispered absently.  
Boromir just stared at him for some seconds, before asking again :  
"Faramir, tell me what happened ?"  
His brother hesitated a few moments before answering vaguely :  
"Lady Galadriel wanted to see me, and I've had a… discussion…"  
Boromir wasn't still completely convinced, for his brother's answer wasn't very precise, and yet, if he had had a talk with the White Lady, he could understand his reaction. He, too, had been shaken. She had tried to tempt them all… Boromir shivered at the thought.  
"What did she tell you ?" he asked, concerned.  
"I… don't want to talk about it…" his brother answered.  
Boromir nodded. He hadn't told him anything about it either, he understood.  
"Come." he gently told him, leading him under the tree, "A maiden has brought you some food earlier. We were wondering why you hadn't come back yet."  
"I know. I have wandered in the trees for some time before coming here."  
Once they were finally sat next to the other Fellows, Aragorn passed the plate to Faramir, giving him a comforting smile, which Faramir weakly returned.  
Boromir held him tightly against his shoulder while he ate.  
'I wish I knew how to help you…' he silently told him. 

Saying that Faramir's mind was a mess that night was more than an euphemism. He felt… almost everything. Anger, sadness, shame, fear, concern. All at once. But joy, relief, hope, assurance, he wasn't. Some part of him should have surely been rejoicing at the fact that his Father did love him, but it wasn't. He felt as if every single second in his life had been nothing more than a lie, that he had done everything he could to please Denethor uselessly… At least he didn't have to anymore…  
More than ever, he wished he had stayed home. They had stayed home. He and his brother. Why, why, why did he tell their Father about his dream ? Why ?  
He wanted to run away, away from all this, to get as far away as he could. He was too dangerous. But Boromir… Boromir needed him, he had to protect him. Or else… he would die…  
They had made a deal. 'You protect me and I protect you.', but what if the only way he had to protect him was to get away ? No, no, no, if he got away, Boromir would be killed and it would be his fault.  
What could he do ?  
Useless to say he couldn't find sleep, at all. The pounding in his head was back. But maybe it was for the best. He had to stay alert. Sauron would surely try to come back. Falling asleep would make him more vulnerable.  
His eyes were suddenly caught by a white light walking silently in the middle of the trees. As it got closer, Faramir finally realized it was the Lady Galadriel. She passed in front of him, and he got up, not even knowing why. Like if someone in his mind was telling him to follow her. So di he.  
She didn't spoke to him until they stopped in front of what seemed like… a… a basin ? In silver ?  
After a small hesitation, the man recognized it as being the Mirror of Galadriel. Many tales spoke about it, but this wasn't how he pictured it.  
"Will you look into the Mirror ?" she asked him, having filled the jug.  
"Wh-What will I see ?" he asked back, hesitantly. The day had been trying enough.  
"Even the wisest cannot tell." she answered mysteriously in a clear, light voice, "For the Mirror shows many things…" she continued, slowly pouring the water in it. The sound was clear and pure and, for a moment, the man almost forgot about his troubles, staring at the limpid liquid.  
"Things that were…" she added, looking straight into him, "Things that are…"  
He looked up at her.  
"And some things…"  
She stepped back.  
"That have not yet come to pass."  
The man stared at her, then back at the Mirror. The last sentence evoked only one thing to him : foresights… No. It was too dangerous, too painful. He didn't want it anymore.  
"You are afraid, son of Denethor. Yet you should not be." Galadriel spoke, staring at his face, reading his soul.  
'But I am dangerous. I am weak.' he thought and, without surprise, the Lady heard him.  
When she spoke, it seemed to the man that her voice was filling his entire mind, washing his dark thoughts away.  
"You are not weak, and even less dangerous. Your father makes you think you are, but you are strong. Your heart is pure, so is your soul. Do not let it get darkened by your thoughts."  
Not knowing why, Faramir agreed. Her voice felt so convincing…  
"Will you look into the Mirror ?" she asked again, giving him a comforting look.  
Liberated from his darkest thoughts Valar knows how, Faramir stepped forward to the basin and looked into it.

"FARAMIR !"  
"No, Boromir ! It is useless ! He is gone…"  
"No, no, no…"  
"I'm sorry…"  
The desperate face of his brother disappeared, replaced by a land, destroyed by a restless flame. Men, Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, Ents were chained, surrounded by Orcs. They were beating them, forcing them to work. In the background, there was a pile of corpses. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Boromir, the Hobbits… all dead…  
On the top of a tower, a dark figure stood. On is finger was flowing a golden ring. The One Ring. He was laughing. He had won.  
There was a man, standing by his side, a blond man, chained, on his knees.  
'You could have saved them… But you left… Coward !' a voice rang.  
The vision blurred again.

The trees were green, the flowers were growing. The White Tree was standing, tall, proud, shining. The King was back.  
'The victory is yours, little one.' a voice rose behind him. He turned around to face the joyful face of his brother.  
'Boromir ?' he asked, surprised, 'But… you… you were dead… You died by my fault.'  
'Me ? Why should I ? You were there, with me. You saved me.' Boromir bore a surprised and worried look on his face.  
'No, no… I have failed, this can't be…'  
'What ? It is true you have made some mistakes, we all did, but you are the one who put an end to this madness.'  
'I-I did ? How ?'  
Boromir's brow furrowed.  
'What do you mean "how" ? You told us about this a thousand times. You have kept faith and you have trusted yourself, don't you remember ?'

The scene blurred again and Faramir was back into the real world, his head involuntarily jerking back from Mirror.  
"What was that ?" he asked Galadriel hurriedly.  
"What you needed to see."

Frodo was staring discreetly at Faramir from the place where he was lying. Oh, he knew what this face meant. What could have she showed him ? And why had she ?

They had departed early in the morning.  
The Lady Galadriel, in her endless generosity had gifted them all with magnificent presents : two small daggers for Merry and Pippin, an elvish rope for Sam, Frodo had received the light of Ëarendil, shining purely in his small hands, Legolas had been given a beautiful Lórien bow (for which the Lady had told him not to use too early, to allow his still pained shoulder to rest a bit more). Faramir had received the 'Ainulindalë', written by the hand of Rùmil himself ("Beware," had she told him, "the writings are not exactly the kind of Tengwar you are used to…"). The man had smiled, but it was obvious to everyone that it was forced, for his brow was creased and his gaze, absent. His brother had been gifted a golden belt in the shape of leaves, while Aragorn had received, he too, a magnificent dagger. No one knew what Gimli or Gandalf had received personally, but the dwarf kept blushing every time she landed her eyes on him. After that, the Lady of Light had offered them all Elven cloaks, "to hide yourselves from the Eye of the Enemy*, and four small boats. But they weren't the kind of simple wooden boats you could find in Laketown, but beautiful, fine crafted ones, as light as fallen leaves and as fast as water.  
They had all bowed deeply to the King and Queen of Caras Galadhon, except for Legolas, Who had put a hand to his heart in the Elven way. The Elf had then excused himself and had walked to a nearby tree where the Lady Sellenya was awaiting him. The companions had observed them in silence, a small smile on their faces as the two had given each other a tight embrace. Even though they couldn't hear the conversation between the two Elves, they could easily guess what it was about. Especially Aragorn.

It had been decided that Aragorn would be sailing with Gimli, Gandalf with Frodo and Sam, Boromir with Merry and Pippin, currently discussing about Lembas bread, and Legolas with Faramir, to make sure he wouldn't have to row too much on his own.  
"You have something on your mind." the Elf simply stated after a few meters, not even turning around to the man behind him. Faramir stared at him in surprise. If he had been trying to hide it, it hadn't worked.  
"Do not look so surprised. You haven't said a word since this morning. What is it ?" the Elf explained him.  
Faramir lowered his head. He wanted to talk about it to someone. But they would surely be afraid of him, or… angry at him, or… In fact he had no idea on how they would react, and he wasn't really sure he wanted to know…  
He was about to answer when he caught the insisting look Mithrandir was giving him, so he stared back.  
The Wizard nodded his head.  
Faramir cleared his throat and breathed deeply.  
"There is something I need to tell you…"


	11. Parth Galen

To his great surprise, before he could say anything more, the Elf raised his hand and quickly told the man :

"No, don't. Wait until we stop, so that you will tell everyone at the same time."

Faramir nodded and lowered his eyes, trying to think of how he could begin and wondering if telling everyone would be a better idea… If there had been only him, he wouldn't have told anyone…

At least, with Legolas, he would have had to face only one reaction, and the Prince lived in an already corrupted world. Maybe he would understand.

But telling everyone… he might have to face eight different reactions, and to deal with all of them…

Most of all, he was afraid of his brother. How would he be like when learning that Faramir hadn't been telling the truth ?

He did not know, truly, for Boromir had become so much different from the man he used to know. Despite all the care he was showing to him, Faramir felt him growing more distant, more serious. But the younger man knew himself to become more distant too. He was now hiding things to Boromir, a thing that he couldn't have done in the past. They still loved each other, deeply. But not in the same way as they used to.

Merry was joking and laughing loudly, but his two companions were not. They were answering to his questions, smiling at his antics and sometimes (but only sometimes), he managed to get a small chuckle out of them. That was it.

Concerning Boromir, This wasn't much different from the other times, except that his mind seemed completely elsewhere. He kept staring intently at the back of his younger brother, for his boat was right in front of them, and his brow was furrowed, as if he were trying to see right into the man's body.

The young Hobbit could understand. Faramir had suffered much these past weeks and he was surely acting most strangely, as if carrying a heavy secret. What was surprising was the look of suspicion and irritation he could see on Boromir's face.

As for Pippin, his behaviour was most unusual. Normally, he would have been the one making most of the jokes and pranks, but this time, he was not. He remained sat at the boat's front, a sad look on his face. He was letting his gaze wander from Strider, to Gimli, to Gandalf, to Frodo, to Sam, to Legolas, to Faramir, at the sight of whom he couldn't suppress a small sigh. Merry certainly knew the man and he were like a mentor and his protégé, just as he felt with Boromir. Or at least they used to, for Faramir hadn't been seen much in Lothlórien, and so, Pippin and he hadn't been much discussing together since Moria.

Of course they had stayed at the man's side while his head slowly healed, but he was asleep most of the time.

The young Hobbit had seen the tears in his cousin's eyes and had done everything he could to heal them, but this was not something he was used to do. Pippin did not cry before. Never. Everything was different now. Frodo had changed much too. They didn't spoke much anymore, and he always looked tired, pained, worried, guilty, absolutely not Hobbit-like. Hopefully, he had relaxed himself a little in Lothlórien. Just a little, but enough to have some less serious discussions with the three other Hobbits. Oh, Merry definitely missed the Shire. Why had they insisted on coming ?

Frodo winced and let out a small gasp at the sudden wave of pain that went through his chest, which owed him a very concerned look from both Sam and Gandalf. But he quickly dismissed it with a shake of his head, although he knew quite well what that meant. Danger was close. Sauron was close.

Gimli was slightly startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to meet Aragorn, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"The gates of Argonath," he told loud enough for everyone to hear him.

The dwarf turned his head back to where the man was looking and saw them. Two statues. Taller than the ones he had ever seen. They were holding a hand before them and held a sword in the other. Gimli's mouth fell open at the sight. Surely men could be good builders at times.

"Isildur and Elendil." he heard the voice of Boromir from behind him, apparently answering a question from the Hobbits. "You hear that, Faramir ?" he then told his brother, making him turn around, "We are home."

The two smiled at each other before focusing back on the two statues. A look of immense pride appeared on Boromir's face as they passed the gates and entered a small lake.

"We shall stop here for today," Gandalf told the Fellowship, pointing at the shore, "And then, I am afraid we will have to walk, except if you feel ready to bring the boat into the waterfall."

The Hobbits answered with a loud sigh, which made Gimli chuckle.

The company quickly settled a camp to eat and immediately after, Legolas went to find Estel and Mithrandir, alert.

"We should not stay too long on this side of the river. I have a bad feeling about this place. I hear the trees screaming." he told them worriedly.

Estel put a hand on his right shoulder but it was Mithrandir who spoke :

"I know that, penneth, but the other shore is overrun by Orcs. This is the less dangerous place to stay."

The Elf bowed, not feeling completely reassured. But he trusted Mithrandir.

"Now, Faramir ?" the Wizard called the young man sitting on a stone, taking care of his sword, "I think you wanted to tell us something, didn't you ?"

The young man swallowed but nodded before sheathing back his sword and getting up. Every Fellow could easily see the sweat that dropped from his brow as he began.

Eventually, when he was finished, the man allowed himself to lift his eyes up to meet his companions' gaze. He was shaking, he had had trouble to tell them everything and his eyes were filled with tears. Tears of shame, of regret, and fear.

There was a long moment where none of them spoke and they simply stared at the man before them. But while Faramir had expected them to get angry, ashamed at him, disgusted, their looks only held an immense compassion and kindness, but maybe also a little fear. But they didn't seem to be afraid of him, they were afraid for him. It was Boromir who, unsurprisingly, spoke first, walking to his brother and taking him in his arms, holding him tightly :

"Why didn't you tell me ?"

Faramir could do nothing else but shake his head in a way of telling he did not know.

Soon, everyone was around them, comforting the younger man.

"Have you ever been to Eryn Lasgalen, Lord Faramir ?" Legolas asked him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"N-No." the man answered, "But I have heard about it."

"Then you should know that even the purest place or person cannot always resist Him."

Faramir nodded and thanked him, but suddenly, the Elf's eyes shot wide open.

"Yrch !" he shouted, pushing the two brothers away. They all watched in horror as an arrow buried itself in the sand right where the two men were standing a few seconds ago, followed by an abominable shout.

Faster than anyone could register, Legolas grabbed his bow and shot back, wincing intensely at the pain it caused. They then heard the loud thud of the lifeless body hitting the ground.

"A sentinel." Legolas stated again, "They know we are here."

"We have to cross the river !" Gimli exclaimed.

"No !" Aragorn shouted back, "They would follow us ! It would simply delay the fight !" he explained, unsheathing his sword and preparing for the battle to come.

"Aragorn is right, Gimli." Gandalf told the unconvinced dwarf too, grabbing Glamdring.

Everyone made himself ready, even the Hobbits grabbed their small daggers and hid behind the taller ones.

"How many are they, Legolas ?" Aragorn asked the alert Elf.

"Too many, heavily armed, coming from every direction." the woodelf answered flatly, while drawing his bow. Even he couldn't suppress a small moan of pain at the movement.

"Natho, Legolas." [Careful] Aragorn worriedly told him, forcing him to lower his arm. The man then frantically ran his fingers in his hair. The Orcs were getting even closer, they could easily be heard now. And they were, effectively, numerous, too numerous. A decision had to be taken. But it was hard… And maybe they wouldn't agree…

"Gandalf, take the Hobbits and the injured to the other shore, we will try to stop them, or at least delay them, but you cannot stay here. We cannot risk your lives." he finally told.

Immediately after, loud shouts of protestation came from Legolas and Faramir :

"No !"

"You won't be able to stand against them !"

"I am not leaving you here !"

Aragorn's face clearly meant 'Who said that we intended to win the battle ?' which owed him both angered and desperate looks from the two.

'No, no… You cannot take that decision for me…' Faramir thought desperately. 'I won't let my brother to sacrifice himself ! I am supposed to protect him !' he wanted to scream, but the words couldn't get out of his mouth, he was frozen, frozen in fear, he didn't even know why.

Only Gandalf and the Hobbits had remained completely silent. The Hobbits suddenly felt really small. This was a decision that should be taken for them, for they were, at the same time, most reluctant at the idea of leaving their companions and not looking forward to another fight. Gandalf, he, agreed with Aragorn's idea, Frodo needed to be brought to safety, and the other Hobbits weren't ready yet to fight, but he also knew that it would be a sacrifice...

Eventually, the Wizard spoke :

"I am afraid you are both right and wrong. But we do not have much time. It is true that the Ringbearer needs to be brought to safety, but the three of you will never be able to stand against them…"

"That is why I am staying !" Legolas cut off abruptly.

"But, mellon-nîn, you are injured…" Aragorn tried.

"I was injured, Estel, and I am not leaving you to a certain death. You will need my help if you want to stand a chance. And besides, there a dwarf here to whom I owe a life debt."

"You… You don't owe anything, you saved me first !" Gimli told, confused.

Seeing the fierce look in the Prince's eyes, both Aragorn and Gandalf knew there was no point in arguing. No point and no time to waste. The Elves were simply too stubborn. And his arguments made sense, although Aragorn still doubted they would be able to truly win the fight...

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid." he finally spoke. Legolas nodded.

"Very well, then," the Wizard finally agreed in defeat, "Frodo, Sam, Merry, Pippin and Faramir shall come with me."

"No !" the man eventually shouted before he could even realize he was. No, he couldn't leave. Not now. This was the place. He recognized it, now. He had seen what was supposed to happen there… This had suddenly gotten him out of his frozen state. He couldn't just abandon his brother to a certain death. Even with Legolas' help, he wouldn't make it. He had to stay. He knew it. No one could get him away.

"No, I can't." he added, lowering his head.

The Wizard, recognizing the look in the man's eyes, hastily walked to him while Boromir grabbed his brother's forearm tightly :

"Do not be a fool, brother. I don't want you to take any more risks…" Boromir told worriedly.

"You will need help, Faramir, I cannot leave you." Gandalf explained, clearly referencing to Sauron. Faramir understood him, but his brother was the dearest person he had. He couldn't knowingly let him… die…

"I-I saw something…" he told them mysteriously, not revealing this was where Boromir might die, which he did not need to, apparently, according to the Wizard's look, "I cannot leave, Mithrandir. I know it."

"Do not let your emotions cloud your judgement, young man, you need help." Gandalf tried to reason with him.

Faramir was completely desperate.

"No, no. This is why I came, I cannot leave."

Silence followed.

"And I am not alone." he added, in a last attempt to make the Wizard break and sensing he was very reluctant.

For some seconds then, the Wizard looked at him, trying to see in his mind. But eventually, the desperate plea in Faramir's eyes made him break. If he went with him, the simple fact that his brother was left behind could have made his mind even more vulnerable.

'Look after him, my Lord and Ladies.'

"So be it. I shall take the Hobbits with me."

And as he said those words, he was forced to see the broken look on Merry and Pippin's faces, staring at the two brothers, but they didn't say anything. They had no time. No time for goodbyes. They were convinced they were not to see each others again, convinced that they were sacrificing themselves.

"We will catch you back," Boromir told them hopefully, but that did not work. A part of him was still reluctant to let Frodo go. He had the Ring with him… He wouldn't be able to bring it to his Father… But his thought was quickly dismissed. The Ring had taken control of him too easily and the consequences could have been disastrous. If he couldn't resist It, how did his Father could ?

And so they parted, without farewells spoken. But none were needed. You just had to look into their eyes.

Less than a minute later, the Orcs were on them, trying to push them back to the river. They were too many, way too many, coming from everywhere. Legolas' face was filled with pain and Faramir's head was pounding from the terrible screams the foul creatures were letting out. They had both been able to bring down a lot of Orcs with their arrows, but to what cost ? The two were already looking exhausted, but Aragorn had to admit they wouldn't have been able to stand that long, but even now, their hope of surviving this was growing thinner and thinner. Gimli was letting out terrible dwarven shouts each time his axe cut through the air to separate an orcish head from the rest of his body. He was fighting like an enraged beast, his head and body covered in red and dark blood. He had several cuts on his head, chest and arms.

Aragorn was trying his best to stay close to Legolas' side, glancing worriedly to him each time he heard his pained moans and gasps. The Elf already bore a nasty cut on his right arm, but the man had no way to help him with it. His usually dance-like way of fighting where he played with his enemies had long disappeared, and he was now trying his best to dodge the blows of the four Orcs. Almost luckily, he managed to cut through the jugular of two of them, but one of the remaining two managed hit his wrist, sending his knife to fly away. Seeing it, Aragorn tried his best to both parry the deadly blows and grab his dagger. He was doing pretty well until the nasty Orc, seeing an opening, feinted a blow to his head before finally hitting his left leg. Aragorn let out a small cry as his knee buckled, feeling as if his leg was on fire. His head was spinning and his vision blurred for some seconds, but he managed to stay upright and kept defending himself. Eventually, his sword pierced the orcish chest, splattering him with dark blood, and he was finally able to get his dagger out of his sheath, wincing.

"Legolas !" he called, throwing his dagger at the overrun Elf, who easily caught it. But at the same time, one of the Orcs sent his sword forward. Legolas avoided the deadly blow, but the dirty blade still cut very deeply through his tunic on his side, staining it with clear blood. The Prince let out an involuntary shout and shook his head as black dots began to fill his vision from both fatigue and the numerous open wounds on his body. Valar knows how, he still managed to get the Orcs head off their bodies. Aragorn turned around again when he heard the two heavy thuds of the dead bodies falling behind him, but also the much lighter one of an Elf falling on his knees.

At first, the two brothers were fighting side by side, back against back, but they were soon forced to separate themselves. Boromir was paring and reposting with an incredible precision, sweat and fresh blood dropping from his head, due to a scimitar he had barely managed to dodge in time. Hopefully, his brother had been there to have his back by the time he got up again. But he wasn't anymore. He was fighting a group of Orcs at least three meters ahead of him. Well… Fighting was a great word. The most appropriate on would have been 'avoiding to get slaughtered', but this was the best he could do. His mind had trouble thinking straight, and he kept glancing back to his brother, looking for an archer not faraway from him, which had nearly cost him his sword and caused him to receive a cut near his collarbone.

Suddenly, he saw it. Standing away from the fight, close to the river bank, preparing itself to draw his bow. An Uruk-Hai, a very tall one, strong one. It was the One.

Every other thought left the young man's mind. Without thinking, he ran to it, not paying attention to the Orcs behind him, to the blows he received.

'No… No…'

Faster, he had to be faster, but his path was blocked by Orcs. He ran into them, ignoring the pain that crossed his body, or the blood staining his clothes, and ran, ran.

The Uruk was aiming at Boromir, ready to let the arrow fly to his meet the man's chest. His fingers opened…

But at that very moment, Faramir's chest collided with its shoulder and they both fell into the water.

Alas, the arrow had been released, but the young man couldn't seen nor hear where it had landed, for the creature held his head under the water, while grabbing his scimitar and aiming at his throat. Faramir was gasping for air, desperately trying to get to the surface, desperately looking for a clue that what he had done had worked, that his brother was still alive.

He couldn't, he didn't have enough strength.

The creature lifted his arm, ready to strike.

But, without a warning, he felt a burning darkness piercing through his head.

'Glob !' [Fool] a dark voice yelled.

Everything in his mind became only pain, fire, torment, rage, death and he was aware of nothing more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this was very long, but I was very bored and I just couldn't find a way to make this shorter.Sorry for the little cliffie in the end...Take care of yourselves, and, to everyone who is confined, stay home !


	12. The Road Goes Ever On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 12 ! Thank you all for the Kudos and comments, you really make my day !

'Oh, you didn't truly think you could escape me, did you ?'

The dark voice now filled everything around him.

He was back.

'Get away !' he mentally shouted at him, trying with all the strengths he had left to get Him out of his mind. But it was too late. He was in. He had seen his opportunity and jumped on it. The man felt extremely weak, breathless.

He had pierced his skull and was now slowly crawling in to reach his mind.

'Oh no, I am not. Not this time.' the evil voice answered.

The flames began to hit him intensely and painfully. He was trying to get control over him again, but in the hard way this time. Faramir yelled. His very mind was on fire, burning from the inside. But he wouldn't give up, not this time. He had to be strong. But he felt his strengths getting diminished by the minute.

'Still resisting... You fool ! You are no match for me !'

He struck again. Even harder this time. Faramir felt as if his head was opened in two. The pain was unbearable. His voice broke when he let out another tearing scream.

But slowly, the pain decreased, and he began to feel another presence. Not dark and painful as He, but shining and pure. No... No, there wasn't only one presence, but three. Three, pushing away the darkness. Slowly but surely.

'Leave him !' one of the shining presences told the cloud of darkness and fire in a manly voice, 'Leave him now and never come back !'

Faramir knew this voice... He had heard it already... But where..?

And suddenly, realisation hit him.

"H-Hír Elrond ?" [Lord Elrond] he asked in a weak voice. The form turned to him and smiled. His face wasn't very distinguishable, but he looked very similar to the Elf Lord of Imladris.

The flames struck again, aiming at the young man crumpled on the floor. But the three forms interfered and one of them took the blow, letting out a small moan. Faramir couldn't exactly tell who it was, except that it was a woman, according to her voice. His mind felt too foggy to recognize her. Immediately after, the fight between light and dark resumed. Faramir lowered his head, trying to catch his breath. He didn't have enough strengths to help the others.

They were pushing it back. Again and again. The flames were trying to hit them, but they were blocked them. They were winning. He was getting out.

'Do not trust them !' His voice tried, but Faramir was even too tired to give it a thought.

'You are not as strong as they say. I only can make you stronger.'

Faramir shook his head, trying to clear his mind, to catch his breath.

'Your brother is dead.' the dark voice suddenly stated, which made the man look up at the dark cloud in front of the white figures.

"No..." was the only word that could get past his lips as the world seemed to crumble around him.

"No no no no no..."

He had failed. He had failed. He hadn't been strong enough.

"No !"

Boromir was dead. Dead. His brother, dead. It was his fault.

Slowly the darkness seemed to get back in him.

'Do not listen to Him !' one of the light voice shouted. But the man didn't even bother to search where it was coming from.

He had failed. He had sworn to protect him. Everything had been useless.

The darkness came even closer. The three tall figures seemed powerless now, though they kept fighting as hard as they could.

One word kept repeating itself in the man's ears.

Dead.

Dead.

Boromir was dead.

Dead.

He wanted to cry but he couldn't.

He wanted to scream but he couldn't.

He was broken, no more than a shadow of himself.

'You see ? You are weak. You couldn't save him.' the Dark Lord spoke again in his evil voice, 'I can make you strong. You will not lose anyone or anything again. I can give you power. The Power to bring him back...'

The man's head shot up at the last sentence. An involuntary gasp escaped him. The Power... to bring him back ?

The figures all turned around to face him hurriedly.

'No, Faramir, don't ! He is the Dark Lord ! He is lying to you ! Such a power is owned only by the Valar, He cannot give it to you !' one of the light voice yelled. A womanly voice. Sellenya ?

He looked at her face and saw the desperate plea in her eyes. He then looked at the others. Lord Elrond and... Lady Galadriel, perhaps, both silently begging him to get his reason back. And he did, eventually, like if the Elf's gazes had cleared his grief away.

This was Sauron, the Master of Mischief. How could he know that he would keep his promise ?

'Do not listen to that little elfling. She knows nothing about it.' He tried again. But the man had already made his choice.

The idea of being able to possibly bring Boromir back to life sounded very appealing, and yet... Yet it was the Dark Lord... Maybe He had been tricking him from the beginning. Maybe... Maybe Boromir was... alive ? Yes, yes, maybe. And even if he wasn't... Nothing guaranteed him he would really be able to bring him back.

Besides, he had promised Mithrandir he would be fine without him, and he had trusted him.

They had taught him how to resist, they had trusted him to be able to do it.

He had to show they had been right.

And the others... Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli... They still had a fight to win.

'Yet I was silly enough to trust Him...'

That last thought made him let out a small sigh. He still had much to learn. He would have been lost if they hadn't been there.

Gathering all of his few remaining strengths, Faramir got up and went forward to face the dark cloud. Strangely, he was left completely out of breath, as if something else than air entered his lungs, but he put it on the account of stress.

He felt light hands on his shoulders, closed his eyes and allowed the light to penetrate him.

'Not today.'

The light completely irradiated his surroundings and then everything went black again.

The Orcs lifted his scimitar. Aragorn could do nothing to stop him. He was on the ground, had lost his sword. He closed his eyes and grabbed the hand of the Elf he had been trying to defend since his fall. It had drained all his energy and the wound on his leg hadn't made things any easier. There was nothing more he could do. He was defeated.

'I'm sorry, mellon-nîn...'

But the pain never came. The man slowly opened his eyes and couldn't believe what he saw. The Orcs were fleeing ! They were still way more numerous than the half-Fellowship, but they were fleeing...

The companions, however, had been standing no chance. Just a few more minutes and their lives would have been ended.

Oh, not that he was complaining at all, but that was very weird...

Once his surprise and shock was passed, the man finally took the time to crawl beside the Elf that laid motionless on the rocks.

The man was highly relieved to see the more or less regular rising and falling of Legolas' chest, but he still looked very pale and his heart was beating fast. The Prince was cut and bruised in multiple places, but nothing to be highly concerned about. Only the cuts on his leg and chest seemed to be notably bleeding, so Aragorn tore a piece of Legolas' tunic to bandage them as tightly as he could. The Elf gasped at the pain and his eyes opened.

"Mae govannen dan, mellon-nîn." [Welcome back my friend], Aragorn told him, a thin smile on his lips. Legolas answered with a confused look.

"Manhidant ?" [What happened ?] he asked in a weak voice.

"Laethennog sanasta." [You lost consciousness]

The Elf winced at the answer, a look of shame and guilt on his face.

"Dihenog nin..." [Forgive me]

Aragorn shook his head, indicating there was nothing to forgive.

The two were suddenly interrupted by the arrival of a bloodied Gimli.

"Gimli ? Are you well ?" Aragorn asked in concern at the sight. He had completed lost track of him during the fight.

"I am not the one in need of assistance. You have to come quickly." the dwarf hurriedly replied.

Without thinking more, Aragorn got up again, gritting his teeth to suppress a groan of pain at the movement and swaying on his feet as this left him light-headed.

"Ci nided." [You are injured.] the Elf stated, seeing the pain in Aragorn's face, reinforcing the look of guilt on his face.

"Im mae." [I am fine.] The man answered throughgritted teeth, but the Elf nor the Dwarf were fooled.

The Man helped Legolas up, which made the both of them wince and followed Gimli.

Boromir was right in front of them, on his knees, his back turned to them.

They quickly made it to his side and both Aragorn and Legolas couldn't suppress a gasp at the sight. His upper arm was covered in blood, which was dripping from a wound on his shoulder. Meanwhile, the man was gently caressing his brother's cheek, sobbing. Faramir was pale. Way too pale. His skin was cyanotic, his chest, seemingly unmoving. Aragorn quickly recognized the symptoms of drowning.

The Ranger immediately knelt beside him and rapidly searched for a pulse. His breath got caught in his throat when he found one. Irregular, faint and growing weaker by the minute, but there.

He hurriedly took the boy from Boromir's lap and began to breath back life in him.

The others felt as if time had been put in slow motion. Aragorn often grabbed the limp man's wrist to search for his pulse, letting out most uncourteous words when he found it unchanged.

"It's my fault, I did not see him quickly enough. He was in the river and..." Boromir kept repeating.

"None of this is your fault, lad." Gimli was trying to reassure him

Eventually, after what seemed like long hours, the young man let out a small cough, followed immediately by a strong, harsh coughing fit. He was, finally, coughing up the water that had been filling his lungs.

Almost reflexively, Aragorn and Boromir grabbed his shoulders and made him to sit up. The dark-haired man then began to slap his back.

After long minutes, the coughing ended and every companion finally allowed himself to exhale sharply in relief. Faramir was ventilating, but breathing.

The young man lifted his head and looked at the Aragorn, a confused look on his face, which grew even more important when he felt the strong arms of his brother around him.

"B-Boromir...?" he asked in a hoarse voice, making him to cough a little.

"Shh... I am here, you are back." the older man answered, gently stroking his brother's back, tears streaming down his face.

Recognizing his brother's voice, Faramir's confused look surprisingly turned into a joyful one and he held Boromir even tighter, causing the older man to wince in pain.

"Y-You're a-alive !" he exclaimed, provoking another coughing fit.

A look of complete misunderstanding passed on the faces of the companions.

"Of course I am, why shouldn't I ?" was Boromir's confused reply.

"B-But... th-the arrow...? D-Did I deflect it ?"

Boromir's eyes grew wider at the realisation that his brother had risked his life for him.

"Yes. Yes, you did." he told the younger man comfortingly.

"N-Not enough... apparently..." Faramir added, noticing the blood on his brother's arm, "F-Forgive me..."

"No, no, it's nothing. Merely a scratch. You do not have to apologize for anything, you saved my life."

Boromir gave his brother a small smile, which he weakly gave back.

"Don't you ever dare to scare me like that again." Boromir told Faramir, squeezing his shoulder.

"Merely a scratch, but a poisoned one." Aragorn's voice interrupted after having intently observed Boromir's wound, "Gimli ? Would you mind searching for my pack in the boat ?" he asked the dwarf.

"Sure." he answered, "But don't forget to take care of your own injuries too." the dwarf added in a firm tone, glancing severely at him.

The man didn't reply, too occupied to examine the wound on Boromir's arm. He still lifted his head up when he caught the sight of Legolas sitting on a stone. If someone hated to sit down, it was him, which proved he wasn't well at all.

"Na ci mae, Legolas ?" [Are you well, Legolas] he asked him in concern.

"Al-felda erin ci." [No worse than you] was the Elf's mysterious answer, which made Aragorn frown. Usually, Legolas' answer would have been 'I am fine', even if there was a huge gap in his chest. That was surprising.

The Ranger still had to admit he, too, didn't feel well either. The blood loss and exhaustion from the fight made him feel a bit dizzy and light-headed. But there had been more important matters to deal with.

They hadn't even give a thought to why had the Orcs fled. But that didn't matter.

For now, he needed rest. They all needed. And there was only one option. They couldn't go after Gandalf and the Hobbits in such a state.

As he saw Gimli coming back with his pack in hand, he raised his voice, automatically taking the lead of the rest of his companions :

"We will take some time to rest and, as soon as everyone is fit enough to walk, we will head to Rohan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go ! The next chapter should be (I think) centered on the rest of the Fellowship.  
> Take care of yourselves and stay home !


	13. The Road Goes Ever On (pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 13 ! I really had trouble writing it, so I hope you'll

He knew very well who were the opponents, and Valar knows he wished he didn't.

And Valar knows how much he wished that the Hobbits had not heard it. But it was too late. They turned around. The four of them. And they all lost their breath. There were too many Orcs, way too many. Their companions didn't stand a single chance.

Tears began to stream down their faces. They would not see them again. Never. That was now a certitude.

"Come," said Gandalf, putting his hands on Frodo's shaking shoulders, "Let's do not waste the time they are granting us."

Very reluctantly, hearts filled with sadness, they turned around and made their way into the thick woods.

Frodo felt the Ring getting heavier and more painful every minute. It was burning his skin. Literally. And there was that voice in the back of his head. Dark, full of evil and mischief. The words it spoke made absolutely no sense into the young Hobbit's mind, but it was still very unpleasant to hear.

He felt so weakened already, and yet he now had to bear the grief brought by his companions' death. Yes, death. How could they possibly survive such an unfair fight ? Even though it coated him dearly to admit it, they simply stood no chance. Not a single one.

And, according to the look on his four companions' faces, they knew it too. Pippin hadn't stop crying since they had left the others behind, so had Merry and Sam, but not Frodo. Oh, he was sad, deeply sad. It was hard, painful. In his normal state, he would have even been one of the first to cry, but not now.

The Ring was interfering with his emotions no doubt, diminishing them.

The young Hobbit looked at the Wizard beside him. His stern face showed nothing, as usual, and yet, there was something, an almost imperceptible tremor on his lips, maybe, that let the most observant people to know of his trouble.

Suddenly, without a warning, the old man's eyes opened wide as an abominable shriek reached their ears and they all saw a terrible dark creature flying over them. Frodo couldn't hold back a cry of pain as the sensation of burning on his chest increased.

"Mister Frodo !" Sam yelled in alarm.

"Quickly ! Hide under that stone !" Gandalf shouted, pointing a providential rock a few meters ahead of them. Sam hurriedly grabbed his Master under his arms and half-lead, half-pulled him under the flat stone. The four Hobbits buried themselves under it as far as they could while Gandalf kneeled in front of them, pressing a finger to his lips. Merry and Pippin were shakingly holding each other, holding their breath while Sam was still grasping a deathly pale Frodo by his shoulders.

The Hobbit had closed his eyes in pain. Every single part of his body was hurting. The Ring burned him, his shoulder felt as if sharp knives were piercing it over and over again, his head and ears were exploding.

That voice in his head was even louder than before, filling his entire mind. All he saw now was flame and darkness. The Voice was telling him to pass the Ring on his finger again and again, louder and louder. It was so tempting, so convincing... He had no control over his body anymore, the Voice was telling him what to do, and he could do nothing but obey. A small part of him was trying to resist, but it was hopeless, the Voice was too strong.

He felt his right hand grabbing the precious Ring under his shirt, his left hand being brought closer... The abominable shriek in his ears increased.

But then he felt a strong, large hand catching his own, restraining it back. He tried to resist it. He had to reach It, the Ring, to put It on. It was calling him.

It was his... his Ring... his... Precious.

There was a faint voice in the back of his head. A clear voice.

"Fight it, young Baggins !"

Fight ? Fight what ? He was fighting it, he was fighting the hand. Why...?

The questions died in his mind as he suddenly felt his body being torn apart and fell into darkness.

'No... Not Him...'

"No..." was the only mutter that Gandalf could get past his mouth when he felt Him. He was back. And the Wizard could do nothing to help this time, he was too far... The Nazgûl turned around, sensing its Master's presence and prepared to reach Him. It knew what it had to do...

"No !" Gandalf yelled getting out of the rock. No, they would not be taking him today. Not Faramir.

His staff glowed bright white and the light hit the dark beast, which let out a terrible scream before it fell to the ground about a hundred meters before them.

"Run !" Gandalf yelled, pulling the Hobbits out of their hiding place and grasping Frodo's limp form in his arms. The Ringwraith's mount had been hit, but not the creature it carried. They had to be fast, but such a powerful spell had left Gandalf tired and weary. That added to the Hobbit's short legs left them highly disadvantaged.

"Faster !"

He felt the darkness behind him. It was getting closer fast. Way too fast. Even without a mount. It had found the Ring, it sensed it, it won't let It get away. It had been trained to this.

The companions were running as fast as they could, but it was hopeless. That thing was too fast, they couldn't escape it.

"Run ! I will catch you !" Gandalf told the frightened Hobbits, resting Frodo in Sam's arms

The Wizard stopped, turning around, unsheathing Glamdring, ready to fight.

The dark figure was ready, its Morgul blade in one hand.

The hand-to-hand fight seemed inevitable. Gandalf knew he stood no chance, he had only a few remaining strengths in his body.

'Please the Valar they will not be found...'

Without a warning, the creature let out a terrible yell and slowly faded to dust. Gandalf stared at it for some seconds in surprise, but quickly gathered back his thoughts and resumed his run in order to catch back the Hobbits. This mysterious disappearance shall have to be explained later.

Frodo's eyes slowly opened at the sound of a voice. The night had already fallen on the land and he laid in his Elven cloak. He looked around him, trying to figure out where the Voice was coming from. The other Hobbits were sound asleep right next to him while Gandalf was nowhere to be seen.

The young Hobbit had absolutely no idea where they were. They were surrounded only by rocks and a few trees hid them from malicious eyes. Everything that had happened only seemed like a faint memory to him. Yet he did remember that terrible blow, but nothing had hit him... Oh no... He remembered now... It was Him... Faramir ! Was he alright ?

"He's here... We know it, don't we, my Precioussss ?" the voice spoke again, interrupting his thoughts.

"Who's there ?" the young Hobbit asked. That voice was definitely not Gandalf's.

Only silence followed his words and then suddenly, he saw a pair of huge eyes staring at him, the same eyes he had seen in Moria. Gollum, Gandalf had told him. Before his tired body could react, an ugly creature jumped on him and began to tear his shirt, desperately trying to reach what was under it.

"My Precioussss ! He sssstole it ! It is ourssss !"

"Get off me !" Frodo yelled desperately. Less than a second later, the Hobbit caught the sight of a staff colliding painfully with the creature's head and it fell limply on Frodo's chest.

"Are you alright Frodo ?" the deep voice of Gandalf asked him worriedly. Frodo rapidly nodded his head, still under the shock of the sudden attack.

"Did it hurt you, Mister Frodo ?" Sam's concerned and sleepy voice asked and only at that moment did Frodo realised that all his companions were on their feet, surrounding him.

"I'm fine Sam." he answered before mechanically bringing his left hand to his chest and let out a deep breath as it met the hot metal of the Ring.

"Samwise ? Would you mind giving me your rope ?" Gandalf asked the Hobbit, who quickly gave it to him. The old man then tied it around the creature's head and a rock.

"What is that ?" Pippin panicked voice asked, pointing at Gollum in disgust. Merry was still holding his little cousin close to him.

"That, young Peregrin, is Gollum. It used to be a Hobbit, but was corrupted by the Ring's power long ago." the Wizard explained him.

"That is a Hobbit ?" Merry disbelieving voice asked, disgust written all over his face.

"Impossible..." Sam added in a low voice.

"Unfortunately, it is. Or what's left of it. The only purpose of its life, now, is to get back the Ring for itself."

"Why don't we get rid of it while we have the chance ?" Sam asked, disgust and anger in his voice. That thing had hurt his Master !

Frodo stared at him, horror written all over his face at the words. They could not just kill that poor creature...

"I wish we could," Gandalf answered eventually, "But Gollum, here, is one of the last, if not the last living being that knows the path to cross the Dead Marshes."

"Don't you know the way ?" Pippin asked, disbelieving.

"Alas, I do not have that privilege. My knowledge of this part of Middle Earth is quite limited now, after what happened there." the Wizard explained in his tired voice.

Frodo had to admit he let out a small sigh of relief, staring at the poor Gollum curled on the floor. He seemed so weak, so pitiful... It seemed so unfair to have to hit it like that... He was glad they did not have to end its life.

Apparently, Gandalf quickly noticed his troubled look and told the others :

"Try to get back to sleep, you need it. I shall have a small conversation with you, Frodo."

The three nodded and slowly lied back in their cloaks on the floor, a little further away from the Wizard and the Ringbearer, still sitting on the hard rocks.

"You look like you need some rest too, Gandalf." the Hobbit began. It is true the Wizard looked awfully exhausted and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"Thank you, you do not look bad either." Gandalf replied, a small tired smile on his face.

They remained silent for a small seconds, staring at their surroundings before Frodo Finally said out loud the question that had been on his mind since the moment he passed out.

"Was... Was it... Sauron ?"

Understanding what he meant, Gandalf shot him a sympathetic look and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm afraid it was..."

"Is he... Is he alright ?"

Gandalf perfectly knew who the 'he' referred to.

"I... have no idea, I am sorry." he answered hesitantly. Though he didn't felt the darkness getting in the man's mind, that did not mean he had survived the fight with the Orcs. That did not mean any of them survived...

'Why did we have to leave them behind ?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was good and sorry if it wasn't. The next chapter will be centered back on Aragorn and his companions. I don't know if I'll be able to update on Saturday, 'cause we are preparing to move out as soon as we can, so there are some boxes to make.
> 
> Maybe I'll be able to update, but I prefer to warn you.
> 
> Stay home and take care !


	14. The Plains of Rohan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 14 ! So sorry again for the small delay and thank you so much for reading and commenting this story, this is awesome !

Only at dawn, after a long night rest, were the five companions able to leave for the lands of Rohan.

Aragorn had eventually collapsed after having bound and treated the nasty looking wound on Boromir's upper arm. Hopefully, the red haired man had caught the Ranger before he could fall backwards.

"Take it easy. You need to rest too." said Boromir.

"Mmh... N-Nay... G'mli... I need to... treat... Can't rest..." the man mumbled in a weak voice.

Legolas immediately got up from the stone he had been sitting on, wincing as it awoke the pain in his side and leg, and went to the Ranger, followed closely by Gimli. The Elf put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder :

"Yes, you can, mellon-nîn. We will take care of Gimli's wounds by ourselves and your own injuries need to be tended to soon."

"N-Nay..." the dark haired man tried again, but the Elf threw him his kingly look before ordering :

"Your injuries cannot be denied any longer, Aragorn. Lie back, we can take care of this."

"Don't worry about me, lad," Gimli added, "I have been through much worse."

The man could do nothing but comply and so, he allowed Legolas to gently lay his tired body down. The Elf sighed. He had stopped counting the times he had had to do this long ago. Though, he, himself, wasn't bad at it either.

And now here they were. Only fields laid before them, seemingly endless. That was both good news and bad news.

Good because, now, their enemies weren't hidden to them anymore.

Bad because they weren't hidden either.

And Isengard was close... They would have to move quickly, but in their current state, that was nearing the impossible. With a heavily limping Elf and Man, a multiply-wounded dwarf, a half-drowned man and one that bore a previously poisoned wound on his upper arm, even being able to manage walking was a miracle. Yet this was their only way. And so they took it.

The Sun was hitting them painfully, ordering them to stop, weakening them even more. Their breaks were rare, short and restless, and they took it only when they sensed that one of them was about to collapse from pain or exhaustion.

They were pale. All of them. Looking almost like ghosts or living-deads.

Faramir had had another foresight. From Lord Denethor and the Palantír, again. But this time, he managed it. Barely, but he still managed, which was surprising seeing how weakened he was. Maybe that meant that Sauron was now definitely out ? He hoped so. Yet, he was worrying. Every time the Steward touched that evil stone, it made Gondor more vulnerable, and the young Ranger still wondered if he had made the right choice by joining the Fellowship. He had saved Boromir's life, yes, but there was nothing he could do now to help his City and the Steward. No, his Father. His Father... The word felt odd in his mind... The kind of man capable of making his child to suffer like this to possibly avoid himself an hypothetical pain could not be called a father. The only thing his youngest had ever wanted was to hear him say 'I love you', and he had not said it just once. Why ? Because his father was a pure egoist. At least, Faramir now knew that the Ste-... His Father's disrespect and lack of consideration was only because of his own fear and selfishness. Faramir could do nothing against it.

Boromir was supporting his brother, hardly. He didn't feel so good. His brow kept abundantly sweating, yet he felt so cold... But Aragorn had assured him the poison in his wound was gone...

'I just need some rest. It'll surely pass once we get in Rohan and I could sleep properly.'

Alas, they were still so far away from Édoras...

Boromir sighed, but this was quickly followed by a small coughing fit which left him pretty out of breath.

"Are you alright, Boromir ?" he heard his brother's raspy and concerned voice rose beside him.

"I'll survive." he answered, placing a grin on his face. His brother gave him a worried and unconvinced look, but Boromir quickly dismissed it with a small lie :

"Don't worry about me, little one, I just swallowed wrong."

There was no point in telling the truth, it would be only worry his brother even more for nothing.

In his normal state, maybe Faramir would have noticed the unsteadiness in his brother's voice or the slight tremor of his lips. But this time, he did not and turned his head away.

"Do you think King Théoden will welcome us ?"

The sudden change of subject caught Boromir by surprise. He did not expect his brother to just give up on him like that.

"I... I don't know," was his confused reply, "Why wouldn't he ?"

"It is said that the man would have become different, that he wouldn't be the fair, sensible, caring King we are used to anymore." Faramir explained in his still hoarse voice, concern easily detectable in it.

Boromir's brow furrowed at the words. He, too, had heard the rumour, but Gondor and Rohan hadn't been in very good terms lately, so he hadn't paid much mind to it. Yet, now, the man realised that, if the rumor proved to be right, this could cause a problem. What would become of them if they weren't granted hospitality in Édoras ?

The man quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. Now was not the time. They had enough issues to face already.

"What kind of man would be silly enough to refuse the Heir of Isildur as his host ?" he answered, trying to soothe the younger man's trouble.

"Our Father ?" came the acerbic reply. Boromir winced. Unfortunately, Faramir had a point.

'Do not worry about that.' he wanted to tell him, but was interrupted by a sudden and powerful headache that forced him to stop and made him groan in pain. All the faces turned to him and Faramir released himself from his brother's support, face filled with concern.

"Brother, what is it ?" he asked hurriedly. Boromir didn't answer, for he was too occupied to somehow regain his breath. Aragorn limped to him and grabbed his shoulder, observing the pained man's face intently.

"I think we need to take another break." the new leader of the companions said, after a long study.

"N-Nay..." Boromir tried between two hard breaths, "We cannot... Be delayed..."

"Very well, then, you are ordered to take a break." Aragorn told him in a gentle yet firm tone. Boromir opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the dark haired man spoke first :

"Are you contesting your King's orders, Captain ?"

Oh ! No one knew how much it cost the Ranger to say those words... He hated having to use his title as a way to convince him... Yet this seemed to be the only way to avoid Boromir from passing out during their walk, taking his brother with him. Hopefully, the red haired man seemed to take this with a hint of humour, not the least offended :

"C-Certainly not... Sire," the pained man answered, placing a grin on his face as he uttered the last word. He knew how much Aragorn hated to be referred to with his official title. But his smile quickly left his face as he was overtook by another strong headache which forced him to sit down with a groan. Less than a second later, his brother was knelt beside him.

"Boromir ?" he asked worriedly. Boromir wished he could have answered, reassured him, but the pain in his head was too strong, he couldn't form any coherent words or thoughts. His only answer was a grunt.

"What's wrong with him ?" he heard a low voice, probably Gimli's, ask tiredly.

"A heatstroke, probably. We should carry him to those rocks." Aragorn's voice answered. The rest of the conversation was nothing more than a blur to Boromir. He wasn't able to identify the voices anymore.

"I can carry him, Aragorn. You take care of Faramir."

"I can walk by myself. You won't be able to carry him alone, Legolas. Let me help you."

"No, you need to rest. I'll help Legolas."

"You both bear leg wounds. I do not.'

He heard nothing more and had to close his eyes as the pain increased. He did not pass out, though, for he was still very aware of the strong ache in his head. The next thing he was aware of was his arms being passed over strong shoulders and he felt himself being lifted up and carried somewhere. He was trying his best to make his legs to walk, but it looked as if he had no control over them anymore, so he gave up, eventually, and let himself being carried. He didn't open his eyes until they laid him on the ground and he felt a cold breeze brushing his cheeks. The pale faces of Gimli and Faramir were staring at him silently, worriedly, while Aragorn and Legolas seemed deep in discussion. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it did not seem were pleasant. Boromir winced. He felt so odd, like if his very mind was aching. He had suffered heatstrokes before, but none of them had left him so... weak... confused... so weird...

He closed his eyes again, rubbing his temples. The shadow made him feel a bit better, though. He felt less hot.

As he heard no more words being spoken by Aragorn and Legolas, he opened them. Legolas was standing tall and alert.

"Something is coming." he stated, staring at the horizon. Boromir forced himself to sit up, or at least, he tried, but had to be help by his brother and Gimli. His muscles felt so sore...

'I definitely need some sleep.'

"Horses. Quite a lot of them. Riding fast." the Elf continued. All the faces were turned to him.

"Are they friends or enemies ?" Aragorn asked him. The Elf furrowed his brow in concentration, still staring at the horizon. The sound of the incoming horses was now easily hearable by everyone.

"Lord Éomer's Éored !" Legolas finally let out in recognition. Every Fellow let out a breath of relief. They were certainly in no condition of facing a new enemy. And maybe the Éored could ride them to Édoras and end their suffering.

A few minutes later, they were surrounded by the Rohirrim. Every companion stood before them, except for Boromir, still sitting on the grass, and his brother, kneeled beside him. A blond horseman made his horse to take a step forward and dismounted, turning his face to the two gondorians on the ground and bowing slightly.

"Lord Boromir, Lord Faramir, it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Pleasure shared, Lord Éomer," was all Boromir could get out of his mouth before he was overtook by another wave of pain in his head and grunted. That made no sense...

"Boromir !" Faramir cried in alarm, grasping his brother's shoulder tightly. Éomer bore a look of complete confusion on his face.

"Lord Éomer," Aragorn spoke hurriedly, "I am afraid my companions and I are in dire need of assistance. We are all hurt and exhausted and have no place or means to rest or heal-"

"We will take you to Édoras." Éomer spoke before Aragorn could finish. A look of pure relief passed on the Ranger's face as he spoke.

"You have my deepest and most sincere thanks, my Lord."

"My Lord ?" one of the Rohirrim spoke, addressing Éomer, "We cannot go back to Édoras. King Théoden and Gríma will have our heads cut off after what we did."

Éomer sighed at the thought but quickly answered.

"Baldwig, these men are alone and wounded. It is our duty to provide them healing and shelter. Or maybe you would prefer to go and explain to Lord Denethor how we met his sons on the road but decided to leave them behind. And I can promise you that you will regret not to have your head already cut off when you will stand before him." Éomer replied sharply. Faramir and Boromir winced at the words. They both now that was the exact way their Father would have reacted.

"Everything is settled, then. Baldwig, Deorwine, Celmund, Ethelward and Torfrith, you will take one of these men with you."

Legolas sighed when he saw that every face was turned to as he easily and lightly mounted behind Torfrith.

'Oh, please, not a saddle...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you are ! I think the next chapter will be centered around Frodo and the others, but I am not completely sure yet.
> 
> Also, it might take me a bit longer to write the next chapter, because I managed to injure my hand while packing my stuff, so I can't write very fast...


	15. The Dead Marshes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 15 ! It is centered around Gandalf, Frodo and the others this time. You'll find a bit of Sam's POV in it, hope you'll enjoy !

"Please ! Get it off ! It hurtss, it burnss uss ! Argh !"

Frodo closed his eyes and winced as he heard the pained and pitiful shout of the poor creature.

"Gandalf ?" he asked softly, turning to face the Wizard, "Does it really have to bear that rope ?"

Gandalf sighed under his beard. Why did all the Bagginses keep pitying this creature ?

"I'm afraid it has to, yes. Gollum is a clever and malicious creature. If we do not keep it attached, I can promise you he will try to tear the Ring from your neck as soon as we have our backs turned." the Wizard explained.

"And what if it walks ahead of us ? We will not have our backs turned to him."

Gandalf smiled at the very Hobbit-like comment before finally coming to a stop and grabbing the young Hobbit by his shoulders.

"I understand your pity, young Baggins, but if Gollum managed to escape the vigilance of the Woodelves-..."

"Please, please, young Hobbitses ! Free poor Sméagol from this torture !"

"No !" Sam's voice rang, "You're getting what you deserve !"

"Gandalf, please..." Frodo tried again. The Wizard closed his eyes, thinking. On one hand, freeing Gollum might prove very dangerous for both Frodo's and the Ring's safety, but on the other hand, Gandalf had to admit he was getting quite tired of the constant shouting and screaming. But more importantly, that might help the Orcs or any other enemy to spot them, and he could not let that be. He wished there had been another way, but apparently, there wasn't.

"Very well," he finally agreed after a long silence. The Grey cloaked man then went to the seemingly harmless creature and knelt before it.

"Listen to my words very carefully," he began in a sharp tone, his brow furrowed, "I am going get this rope off you."

Gollum's face suddenly brightened and it smiled, while Sam's, Merry's and Pippin's bore a look of deep confusion and disbelief.

"But I make myself very clear," Gandalf continued, "You will lead us through the Dead Marshes and even further if you are needed. And shall you ever try to trick us or to get close to Frodo and the Ring again, I will not hesitate to cast a spell on you, put the rope back around your neck and destroy the Ring forever !"

Gollum's smile immediately left his face. Apparently, it ignored the fact that Gandalf had no mean to destroy its Precious other than throwing It into the flames of Mount Doom.

'This feels just like if I were talking to a child...' the Grey Pilgrim couldn't help but think in slight amusement.

"What does we do, my Preciousss ?" the creature began to ask itself, which made the others to sigh in annoyance.

"That rope burns usss..." it answered in a pitiful and pained voice.

"But the Hobbit has It, and we want It back !" an angry voice continued. If one had heard the creature without seeing it, he would have surely thought there were two of them, not just only one, for the two voices sounded much different.

"But the elvses are hurting us so much with that ssstupid rope !" the pained one came again. The creature then fell silent and stared at the Wizard before it, an unreadable look on its face.

"Sméagol accepts." it eventually agreed angrily.

"Good. But remember my words !" warned the Wizard while carefully freeing Gollum from the source of his pain.

"Thank you." he heard Frodo speak softly behind him.

Pippin kept his head low while they were walking. He had been doing so since the moment they had had to leave the others to face the Orcs on the eastern shore of the river. All his friends... Abandoned to a certain death. The thought was breaking his heart. It had all happened so fast. One minute, they were peacefully rowing down the river, the other, they were broken apart, never to see each others again. Pippin could not believe he would not see his friends again. Maybe a part of him didn't want to believe it...

'Faramir didn't even have time to teach me how to bowshoot correctly...'

The young Hobbit's mind drifted off into memories.

"Come on, Peregrin, pull the rope. The wood will not break, I can assure you."

"Hold it and aim, now."

"Perfect. Now release the arrow."

"You see ? You nearly got it. With a little more practice, you will be able to surpass Boromir very quickly. Even though that is not a very hard task..."

"I heard that, brother !"

Pippin sighed and wiped away the tears on his face. No ! He had to stay hopeful. Why was he thinking so negatively ? Mayhap the others had miraculously survived the assault...

'Seeing the bad side of things, just like men would. Come on Pip' ! Do not focus on this, focus on something else. You have always been good at positivity. Come on, think about... Merry ! You still have Merry with you, and... Frodo ! Yes ! And Sam, too ! Oh ! And there's Gandalf ! He will protect you, right ? You see ? It is not that complicated...!'

But as soon as he was finished, his dark thoughts came back again.

'Though... Gandalf may protect you, but who will protect Faramir, Boromir, Strider, Gimli and Legolas ? They are lost, and we barely had time to truly know each other. Like Legolas ! I haven't spoke with Legolas ! I know nothing of him, except that... He's an elf... He's good at shooting and killing Orcs... He can walk on snow, and... He has a girlfriend, apparently ? Or maybe she's his sister ? Or a relative ? Nay, I don't know that... Oh ! He didn't like dwarves at first ! About that... I don't know much about Gimli either... He had a cousin... Who's dead... and he... seems pretty good at killing Orcs... But everyone else is, in fact... Saved us, the Hobbits... How are we going to do without them ? Four Hobbits, a Wizard and a... thing. That's just perfect ! And where are we supposed to go ? Mordor. With the Eye and all those silly stupid Orcs. How am I suppose to fight them when the only person I have ever fought in my entire life is a disarmed Hobbit. I am lost, they are lost, we are all lost ! Even Gandalf won't be enough...'

Pippin had to admit his own words surprised him. That was so unlike the cheerful, pranking little Hobbit he was. He was getting different, they all were. Merry, Frodo, Sam and him. They were facing the outside world for the first time in their life. They were forced to grow up. And it was hard.

Sam gasped when he saw what was ahead of them. Marshes. Longer than he ever thought it could exist. The entire land looked dead. There were no birds singing, no flowers growing. Only grass, mudd, rocks and water. There was some kind of dark feeling emanating from this place. Like if something really bad had happened here. Something terrible, deadly.

"Welcome, my dear Hobbits, to the Dead Marshes." the voice of Gandalf rose theatrically. They all came to a stop, even the creature Gollum, like if it were awaiting for them to move on and follow it.

"What happened here ?" Sam spoke out loud the question that had been filling his mind.

"The Battle of Dagorlad, the Last Alliance of Elves and Men." was the only answer he was given, with no explanation, "Lead us the way, Sméagol." the Wizard then ordered the thin creature which reluctantly began to... walk ? No, crawl on the ground before them, followed closely by Gandalf. Sam had to admit he still did not understand how Mister Frodo could pity that filthy creature. It was nasty, stupid, dangerous and it's globulous eyes were filled only with malice and cruelty.

"And be careful," Gandalf spoke to the Hobbits, turning around so that he was facing them, "Do not look into the water nor touch anything."

Easier said than done, for a small light on Sam's right kept enlightening his eyes, forcing him to look at it. At first, the Hobbit resisted it, but eventually and unknowingly, he gave up and involuntarily jumped backwards at the sight. A-A... A dead body, no... Two ! Three ! Four ! They were everywhere in the water !

Sam could turn his head only when he heard a scream escaping his three companions lips. They had followed his gaze. Gandalf turned around too at the sound and his eyes opened wide when he saw what the Hobbits were looking at.

"Turn you heads ! Now ! I told you not to look !"

But none of them moved away. In fact, they seemed to be getting closer, especially Frodo. The bodies were calling... They had to go to them... To simply... Touch them... Only once... Join them... That was the only thing they had to do.

Sam was suddenly brought out of his trance as he felt strong hands shaking him by the shoulders and heard a voice yell :

"Get away !"

The young Hobbit became very aware of his surroundings once more and turned to see where his companions were. He found Frodo, knelt on the edge of the water, his Ring hanging above it.

"Mister Frodo !" the Hobbit yelled as he ran to his Master and roughly pulled him back. Frodo gasped and quickly put the Ring back into his shirt, immediately noticing the way Gollum was eyeing at it and he then gave Sam a suspicious look.

'Oh, Mister Frodo, what is this thing doing to you ?'

Sam knew very well his Master would have never acted this way before. He would have never suspected his loyal gardener of anything. But slowly, the suspicion left the Ringbearer's eyes and was replaced by a grateful look.

"Thank you, Sam."

"It's nothing, Sir."

"You fools !" Gandalf's voice interrupted. Sam lifted his head only to meet the Wizard's angered gaze.

"I told you not to look at it ! Do you know what would have happened if you had touched the water ? You would have disappeared ! Forever !"

Pippin was sobbing quietly on their right, comforted by the gentle embrace his cousin Merry was giving him.

"I'm sorry, Sir," Sam bravely spoke, "It is my fault, I am the one who looked first."

Gandalf opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a loud shriek in the air, which made Frodo yell in pain and become deathly white.

"A Nazgûl. Hide under your cloaks !" the Wizard's authoritative voice ordered, urgency clearly hearable in it. The Hobbits rapidly obeyed and Sam had to hide Frodo, too, under his cloak, for he had fallen limp once more. The last thing the young gardener saw before disappearing under the soft cloth was Gollum desperately hiding under a lonely rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you are ! I hope you liked this part, the next one will be about our Fellows in Rohan. My hand is not completely healed yet, so I'm not sure I'll be able to update on Saturday, but I'll try.I hope you and your families are all well in


	16. Edoras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what ? I updated on time, yay !  
> Anyway, there's chapter 16, introducing Éowyn ! Thank you so much again for the wonderful feedback !

When he was completely sure that his companions were all safely mounted before or behind their Rider, Aragorn finally allowed his mind to relax and soon, his thoughts drifted off to Imladris, Arwen... Oh, his dear Arwen... He missed her voice so much... Alas, who knew if they were to see each other again. If he didn't passed away on the battlefield, she should have to take the sea. Well... she should, but that did not mean she would. Oh, Valar, she could be so stubborn when she wanted to... Unfortunately, this time, Aragorn truly wished she would do what was the wisest. He could not risk losing her to the Enemy.

Sometimes, the man surprised himself to wonder if marrying the Elleth was the best and wisest thing to do. Not for him, but for her. She would become a mortal, but would still have to see the Man she loved die before her. She would never be able to sail to Aman, and so, would never get a chance to see her Naneth again.

Aragorn completely understood Gilraen and Lord Elrond being so reluctant at the idea. The Man hadn't understood at first why his mother had forbid him to marry Arwen. He had thought this unfair and had been angry at Lady Gilraen for quite some days. But then he had been explained, he had learned and, for a moment, he had agreed. They would not get married. That was one of the numerous reasons why he had chosen to join the Rangers. Like this, he would get away from his Evenstar and he had thought that, perhaps, their love could have been forgotten. Oh ! How wrong he had been ! There hadn't passed one day when he hadn't thought of his Home, of her. And so had she. And now here they were...

Aragorn lightly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Now wasn't the time for regrets and longing. He had to look after his companions now that Gandalf had parted.

"What happened to your leg ?" Celmund, the blond haired man who Aragorn was riding with asked, "It looks pretty bad."

"We encountered some Orcs at Parth Galen." the Ranger answered simply.

"Parth Galen ? We killed a small army that seemed to be fleeing from there not too long ago." Celmund continued in mild surprise and confusion at the fact that five warriors had been able to scare away an entire regiment of Orcs by themselves.

"Fleeing, you say ? Yes, they might have been the same that we encountered," the dark haired man replied and frowned at the realisation that he had not figured out yet what had made the Orcs to flee.

"B-But... How did you do that ?" he barely registered the Rohirrim's voice.

"I have no idea..." he answered without truly thinking about it. The man was looking around, trying to find Gimli. Aragorn had quickly lost track of him in the fight. Maybe he had seen something the man hadn't. Hopefully, the horse he had mounted wasn't that far from his own.

"Would you mind trying to get closer to the hors my dwarven friend is mounting ?" he softly asked Celmund.

"Deorwine's ? Certainly."

"Gimli ? May I speak to you ?" Aragorn almost whispered to his friend.

"Sure. What's the matter ?"

"I was simply wondering if you had seen anything that could have provoked the Orcs fleeing during our fight ?"

Gimli seemed to be thinking for some moments, but eventually, he answered :

"I don't know, but I think you should ask Faramir. I saw the Uruk-Hai pulling him under water and preparing to kill him but it suddenly backed off looking afraid. But the strangest thing is that the lad didn't got out of the water when he was freed and kept choking. Yet I do not think the Uruk kept him under water long enough to make him to pass out."

Aragorn frowned. He didn't really liked what this implied. He would have to talk to the young man about this. Later. He did not want the Rohirrim to hear that.

"So... You are an Elf, right ?"

Legolas sighed. The ride was going to be long. Hopefully, not all men were as boring as this one.

"Yes, I am." he answered, in a quite sharp tone. Was it not obvious enough ?

"And... So... You can do... Special things, can't you ?"

This time, Legolas really had trouble to stifle a laugh. Special things ? What was that ? Oh, Valar, were men truly so ignorant ?

"Of course, yes. I can fly." was his sarcastic and bored answer. Mayhap some humour might soften the boredom this conversation brought him. But apparently, the Rider took it seriously, for he gave the Elf an incredulous look.

"You... You can fly ?!"

'Oh, Eru !'

The Elf let out a huge sigh and this time, he couldn't avoid a smile from illuminating his face.

"Of course I can't..."

"Then what... What can you do ?"

Faramir was troubled. Deeply. Now, added with the incredible worry he felt for his hurt brother, he was worried about what awaited them in Edoras. The rumor had proved to be right, unfortunately. King Théoden had changed, indeed. And not in a good way at all. What could have happened to him ?

And Faramir could easily sense the Rohirrim Baldwig shaking before him. That wasn't good. Not at all. Nothing was. Absolutely nothing. The Fellowship was broken, they were all wounded, Boromir was definitely in a bad state, Sauron had nearly entered his mind once more and they had no idea of what would happen to them in Rohan.

Faramir felt Baldwig tremble harder as they came in sight of Edoras. Now that was enough, he had to know.

"Mmh... Baldwig ? May I ask you a question ?" he gently tried.

"G-Go ahead."

"What... What is the... matter with King Théoden ?" he asked in a very hesitant and uneasy voice. That was a tricky question to ask.

Baldwig took a long breath before answering :

"We do not know exactly. But there is that new counsellor... Gríma... We think he might be linked to Saruman. In a bad way. Our King cannot take decisions by himself now, he always needs this... this Wormtongue to decide with him or for him. He doesn't even recognise his son anymore..."

After that, Baldwig's voice broke and he could not go on any longer.

A white, shining figure was standing tall on the outside steps of Meduseld. Her long blond hair were flying in the wind, her face completely wet with tears. She watched silently as the Éored entered the capital and a look of relief crossed her face when she recognised the man leading it as being her brother. She had been so scared for him. She truly wished she could have been there, with him, but the battlefield was no place for a woman, they said, especially when she was as high ranked as her. Yet the young Lady couldn't stop dreaming of the day when she would grab sword and shield, put an armour on and run into the fight with the rest of the army. It was her duty to protect this land, no matter if she was man or woman, high ranked or not.

The Lady frowned the slightest when she saw that the company was bringing back five cloaked figures and three riderless horses. She hurried downstairs to meet them, her white dress flying into the wind.

"Éomer !" she called the blond haired man that had just dismounted his horse in a shaking voice. He turned around to face her and ran to give her a tight embrace.

"Éowyn..."

Finally sensing her brother's strong arms around her, Éowyn finally allowed herself to cry freely the tears she had been holding back until then.

"Éowyn, dear sister, what is the matter ?" Éomer's gentle voice asked her.

"Théodred... Théodred passed away this morning..." she answered, sobbing silently, looking straight into her brother's face. Éomer closed his eyes and lowered his head before nodding.

"I... I guess that was to be expected..." the young man answered, voice trembling from the emotion. Théodred had always been more than a simple cousin to him. He had been nearly as important to him as Éowyn. But the Prince's battle wounds had been severe. The chances of survival had been very low. Yet, Éomer had hoped...

"Uncle doesn't even seem to care about it, Éomer ! He treats the death of his own son as if he had been nothing more than a mere soldier !" Éowyn eventually let her anger to burst out. Théoden's reaction at the news of his only son's passing had been to much for her.

"I know, Éowyn, I know. We will find a way to bring things back to normal, I promise."

"But how ?"

"We will find a way, have faith."

The young Lady sighed in despair but still nodded. Yet, they had found nothing so far and time was running out. Saruman was getting stronger while Rohan got weaker.

"My Lord ?" one of the horsemen called the young man. He then whispered something in his Lord's ear. Éomer sighed but rapidly nodded before addressing his sister :

"Éowyn, my apologies for being so rude, but I need to ask you a favour."

The young Lady quickly sensed the great hurry and seriousness in her brother's voice.

"Go ahead."

"I need you to take the wounded including the five cloaked ones to the Healing Yards. You are the only one I trust to do this. Please do not let anyone other than you and the healers to see their faces. No one other than you and the healers must know they are here, understood ?"

Éowyn nodded, but did not leave her brother right away. She did not like the hint of resignation she perceived in his voice.

"Go, now. They need you more than I do."

Faramir sat at his brother's bedside. Boromir laid unmoving, face pale, sweating. This reminded the younger man of all the times he had stayed in the Healing Houses of Minas Tirith when his older brother came back from a mission. Yet, this time, it felt different. 'This is no simple heatstroke.' the healer's words were ringing in Faramir's ear. Then what ? What was it ? The young man had to admit he had rarely been so scared for his brother's life. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were sat too on couches, not far away from the two Gondorians. The healers were now tending to them. Hopefully, nothing seemed too bad, except for the very nasty looking wound on Aragorn's leg, but it should heal quite rapidly. As for the Elf and Dwarf, it seemed that the Elven natural healing ability and the Dwarven hard skin and skill had done a good job. They just needed some rest.

Faramir hadn't been much hurt during the fight, like his brother. He simply bore some scratches on his chest and back and a simple flesh wound around his collarbone.

"Here, I brought you some tea." a womanly voice brought the Steward's son back to reality. He lifted his head to meet the bright blue eyes of Éomer's sister, Éowyn. A small smile was illuminating her already shining face, yet Faramir could easily see the deep sadness in her eyes.

"My thanks." he replied, forcing a smile on his lips as he gently took the cup from her hands, "And all my condolences to you for the passing of Prince Théodred. He was a very noble man."

Éowyn bowed her head in thanks and a long silence followed where the two simply stared at each other without saying a word.

Faramir had met her briefly in the past, when he was riding to Rivendell with his brother. He had completely forgotten how beautiful she was... In a certain way, Éowyn reminded him slightly of Lady Galadriel. The perfect alchemy between beauty and mystery. This woman was very different from any other he had ever met. He could feel great strength in her behind that supposedly fragile mask.

"I'm sorry," she finally broke, "but I need to go back to my Uncle, or he will begin to ask himself questions."

Faramir nodded slowly and the Lady left, her golden hair and white dress floating behind her.

"Faramir ?" he hard a voice calling his name. The man turned around to meet Aragorn, still sitting on his couch. The healer had left him to take care of the Rohirrim.

"I think we need to talk to you."

Faramir lowered his head. Now came the moment he had hoped would never happen.

'This is for the best.' he tried to convince himself, yet that didn't help him to feel, once more, very reluctant to talk to his companions about what had happened on Parth Galen. He knew he shouldn't feel so, but he couldn't help it. This reminded him so much of the times his Father ordered him to do a report.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go, I hope you liked it. For now, I have no idea who the next chapter will be centered on. I've started both anyways, so if you have any preference, feel free to tell !Also, there are some sentences in this chapter of which I am not completely sure. They made sense in my mind, but my mind has been designed to speak and write French, not English, so I am very sorry if everything wasn't completely understandable... Don't hesitate if there are some sentences you don't understand at all.I hope are all well and staying safe !


	17. Long ways to go yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I haven't been able to decide on which group this chapter would be centered on, so I put both of them. You will find a bit of Gollum's POV in this chapter, don't ask me why, but it was very fun to write.Thank you again for the wonderful feedback !  
> Hope you'll enjoy !

_ Wraiths on Wings : _

"It's gone. You can get out." the faraway and faint voice of Gandalf reached Frodo's ringing ears, but the words didn't make any sense to him. His eyes were closed. He felt the soft ground under him and wanted nothing else but to lay on it.

"Mister Frodo ! Wake up !"

Frodo felt a pair of hands carefully lifting him from the ground. The young Hobbit groaned. No ! He did not want to get up, he didn't have the strengths to go on. Yet the young Hobbit's eyes were forced open when the hands on his shoulders began to shake him.

"Sam ?" Frodo's voice croaked in recognition of the head bending over him.

"Back with us young Baggins ?" Gandalf's face suddenly appeared in his line of vision.

"I guess." was the Hobbit's flat and weary answer. He felt so weak... Why had he accepted to go on this journey ? He just wanted to go home, to sit in his soft armchair in front of a fire and sleep. Alas he couldn't. The way was still long to go.

* * *

Sméagol groaned when it saw the Wizard's nasty old face staring at it from over the bush.

"Time to get out." he told it with a suspicious look on his face. Sméagol didn't like that stupid Wizard. He hard hurt Sméagol. Very much. But Sméagol had no choice. Or else the Wizard would destroy its Precious. And so, slowly, reluctantly, groaning, Sméagol began to lead the way to all the stupid people through the Marshes.

Sméagol did not want to go on, though. This silly Precious-Wraith on the flying beast had scared poor Sméagol so much. It was looking for the Precious, it wanted to steal It and take It back to the Evil Place.

Gollum felt a shiver running through his spine at the remembrance of what had been done to him back there. No ! Sméagol could not allow the stupid Precious-Wraiths to take It there, because Sméagol would have to follow them if he wanted to retrieve the Precious.

From now on Sméagol would protect the Precious-bearer from all His silly nasty scary creatures. And maybe if Sméagol was a good protector, he would be able to convince the Precious-bearer to give It to Sméagol as a reward. The Hobbit had been nice with poor Sméagol, maybe...

'Or we could try to sssteal it, couldn't we my Preciousss ? The Precious-bearer is weak...'

Argh ! But the nasty old Wizard and all the stupid fat Hobbitses would never allow it. Sméagol needed to find a way to get rid of them too.

'No no ! It is too dangerousss ! The old grey man will hurt usss again !'

'There is always a way, my Preciousss... Gollum ! Gollum !'

* * *

Eventually, after at least an entire day of exhausting march, the six companions put their feet on the hard ground once more. It was over. They had crossed the Marshes. Gandalf was feeling completely worn out. His strengths were slowly beginning to leave him. First, there had been the Balrog, then the Nazgûl... The Istar truly hoped he would not have to use his magic too soon again, or this he feared this might be the death of him. Literally.

"Where are we going now ?" the curious voice of Pippin interrupted.

"Now..." the Wizard began hesitantly, trying vainly to find another path they could take, but alas, he saw none, "Now we head to the Black Gates."

His voice was only followed by a loud swallowing from the four Hobbits. Apparently and unsurprisingly, they hadn't been looking forward to this.

"No ! No ! You can't go there !" the desperate voice of Gollum echoed, "Do not take us back to the Evil Place !"

"I did not say you needed to come with us," the Istar simply stated, raising an eyebrow in surprise at the creature's reaction.

"No no no ! This is a terrible, terrible place ! The nasty Orcs are everywhere, they hurt us ! You can't go, the Precious would be lost !"

The Grey Pilgrim bit his lip. He knew that was way too risky. But there was no other way... If only the others had been there... But alas, the chances of their survival were nearly inexistent. That thought was tearing the Istar's heart apart more than he would never admit. He had known young Boromir and Faramir for such a long time...

"Sméagol knows a way." the malicious voice of Gollum interrupted his thoughts. Gandalf lowered his head to face it. He did not like the evil look in the creature's face.

"And where is it ?"

"Cirith Ungol."

Gandalf closed his eyes and sighed. That wasn't really what he had wished for. Yet, this seemed to be not their best, but least bad option. Alas, this also probably meant the Hobbits would have to finish their Journey alone...

* * *

_ The Banishment of Éomer : _

"Why didn't you tell us before, Faramir ?" Aragorn's gently asked, grabbing the man's shoulder, "Why carrying this burden alone when you can share some of its weight with us ?"

"I... I don't know... It's just that... My Father has somehow taught me to keep this kind of things he would have considered as shameful for myself. He... For him, it had always been a proof of weakness, and I wasn't allowed to show it. Old habits are hard to kill." the man answered sadly, forcing a smile on his lips as he spoke the last sentence.

At his words, Legolas let out a deep breath and came to stand by Faramir's side.

"I know how this feels, mellon-nîn. I know it is very hard, and I am very sorry you have had to go through this. I promise you I will do anything in my power to help you get over it."

This time, it was a bright and true smile that appeared on the young man's lips. 'Mellon' ? Had Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, called him 'mellon' ? There was no word to express how he was feeling at the moment.

"Hannon-le, m-my friend." he answered, eyes shining.

"So now you call him 'mellon' too, uh ? Then why do you keep calling _me_ 'Master Dwarf' ?!" the hurt voice of Gimli rose, addressing the Elf.

"Because," answered Legolas in a light tone, "I am afraid that being called 'friend' by an Elf, and above all a Woodelf, would hurt your pride, wouldn't it Master Dwarf ?"

Gimli rested his chin on his bandaged hand and began to grumble about the dilemma before muttering an answer in his beard.

"Fine, call me however you want to, _Master Elf_."

The three others chuckled at the reply.

"Anyway," said Aragorn, coming back to the main subject, "Faramir, please, the next time He tries to get in, please try to find a way to let us know. And if you cannot, I beg you, tell us about it right away. I swear you have absolutely nothing to fear or to be ashamed of."

"I will, thank you."

Faramir could not help but notice that, the more they journeyed, the more Aragorn acted like a king would with his subjects.

"Yeah, don't be ashamed about this, lad," Gimli spoke, patting the Faramir's upper leg, "In a way, we can say that _this_ saved our lives."

Suddenly, the Healing Ward's door burst open and a crying Éowyn rushed in, hurriedly closing behind her before sliding to the floor. Faramir was at the Lady's side less than a second later.

"Lady Éowyn, what is the matter ?" he asked gently but worriedly.

Éowyn did not answer right away, trying to catch her breath and ease her sobs.

"É-Éomer... Éomer has been banished from Rohan."

"What ?! By who ?" one of the Rohirrim's outraged voice rose from behind Faramir.

"Gríma..."

The room fell silent. Everyone, healers, soldiers, were in complete shock. Surely they expected their Lord to be arrested, but not banished... It was madness. His entire Éored would be following him.

"H-He..." the weak voice of Éowyn broke, "He will head to Isengard... He wants to destroy Saruman... But he stands no chance... And I can't... I can't go with him and abandon my Uncle... I don't want him to fall into complete madness while I am away... I didn't think he was able to let his councillor to banish his nephew and Lord of the Mark."

"I'll go with him," one of the injured members of Éomer's Éored stated, trying vainly to get up before falling back on his couch, groaning in pain.

By now, Faramir had sat next to the young Lady and had gently pulled her trembling body close to him. She was clearly under shock and the young man knew how difficult the situation was for her. He had been told the Lady of Rohan had always dreamed of fighting for her lands. But this was indeed hardly the right time to leave King Théodred alone seeing what this Wormtongue seemed to make him do...

Aragorn was pacing in the large room (or in this case, mostly limping), looking deep in thoughts.

"I will come." he finally stated after a long silence. Every face turned to him in surprise and disbelief.

"Estel !" said Legolas, hurriedly grasping the man's forearm, "Mellon-nîn, ech harn ! E natha i gurth-cîn !" _[My friend, you are wounded ! It will be the death of you !]_

"Iston, mellon-nîn, iston _[I know, my friend, I know]._ But think," he continued in Westron so that everyone, especially Faramir and Gimli, could understand his reasons, "Even though we are not part of the Fellowship anymore, for all we know, the Orcs are surely still pursuing our friends. And these Orcs come from Isengard."

"But..."

"I am not asking you to follow me," Aragorn's words echoed dramatically in the Wards. Legolas, Gimli and Faramir stared at him in shock, "But I cannot abandon these lands or our friends to their fate when I have the chance to do something, however thin this chance is."

Legolas looked at his old friend with a look of complete understanding.

"And this, mellon-nîn, is the reason why I am coming with you."

Aragorn stared at his friend as if he was about to argue, but he could not forbid the Elf to come with him. Not after what he had just said

"And I am sure you will need someone to have your back, _Master Elf_. I am coming too." the cheerful voice of Gimli stated, coming to stand right next to the Elf.

Faramir, he, carefully released Lady Éowyn and came to sit back next to his unconscious brother.

Accompanying his friends would also mean leaving Boromir behind, leaving him to face the mysterious illness on his own, not being here to help him. Faramir put a hand on his brother's forehead and winced. He did not like the darkness emanating from him. This was no simple disease.

"Faramir ?"

The man lifted his head to find his friends standing right in front of him. Lady Éowyn had got up too and remained a few steps behind, a sad smile on her lips.

"Do not feel forced to come with us."

Faramir shook his head and pressed his lips into a thin line.

Alas, even if he would have preferred to remain at his brother's side, he knew perfectly that Boromir wouldn't want him to do this. He would have told him to go, to do what he needed to, to do his duty.

'Do not worry about me, little one, I'll be fine.' he could practically hear him whisper.

"I... I will follow you." he told the others, voice hesitating slightly.

"Are you sure, lad ?" Gimli asked.

"Yes. That is what he would have wanted me to do."

The three gave him a sad smile and grabbed the young man's shoulders. Even Éowyn came to kneel beside him and gently took his hand.

"He will be fine. I will watch over him. I promise."

No doubt the young Lady perfectly knew how hard it was to get separate from a brother.

"You have my thanks." he told her, squeezing gratefully her hand.

And so, their stay in Edoras ended. Less than a day after it had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go ! I hope you liked it !You may have noticed that I have updated some of the titles of the chapters, because I decided to give each of them the name of a music score of the movies (there's only one chapter for which I haven't found a title in the albums)... Again, don't ask me why...  
> I hope you are all well and staying safe !


	18. Night Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 18 ! Before you start reading it, I just need to tell you that I have uploaded chapters 8, 9 and 12. Basically, I simply replaced most of Sellenya's content by Celeborn's (especially the parts with Sauron), because I thought it made more sense.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter will be centered only around Aragorn and the others and you'll find some Sauron's POV. I hope you'll like it and thank you again for reading this story, you're awesome ! All of you !

Faramir literally fell on his couch. Valar, he was so exhausted ! It had been two days since the four companions, Éomer and a great part of his Éored had left the city of Edoras on horseback, and now seemed like the first time they were able to finally get some rest. On the first day, they had simply rode, desperately seeking for a place secure enough to make camp, which was not an easy task when the only things surrounding you were green and perfectly treeless plains.

"We could ride to Fangorn's Forest, like this we will get closer to Isengard and will be hidden from unfriendly eyes." one of the youngest Rohirrim had suggested innocently.

"Are you out of your mind ?" had come the very sharp reply from Baldwig on the young rider's left, "These woods are in no way a place to settle. This would be as safe as deciding to make camp in Mirkwood."

Certainly, the man had spoken before truly thinking, but Faramir and Gimli had clearly sensed Legolas tense the slightest at the sharp remark. Especially Gimli since the dwarf had been riding with the Elf on a white horse named Arod. Aragorn had not been with them at that time, for he had been discussing with Éomer nearly all journey long. Soon enough, as the cloudless and peaceful day had gone on, leaving Gimli in a state close to sleep, Legolas and Faramir had begun discussing of their homelands.

Truly the man would have never thought he and the Elf had so much in common. They lived in a land plagued by evil, a land where the sun was barely visible, they both had an overly authoritative father who had lost his wife quite soon after his son's birth and who also happened to be the ruler of said lands.

But most of all, the two friends didn't particularly appreciated the constant need to fight this period brought. And that had not much surprised Faramir, for he knew the Elves were very close to nature, and he also very well knew what kind of scars did battles left on a land.

Yet, there was one thing the Prince of Mirkwood had said that, even now, kept running through the man's mind :

"I guess you have been taught about this, but Orcs used to be Elves. And each time I am forced to hurt or kill one of these creatures, I cannot help but think that this might have been a person I used to know..."

Legolas' voice had held so much despair... And Faramir had been forced to admit he had never thought about this...

Eventually, as the sun had begun to set, every rider had realised that Fangorn was their best if not only option, for it seemed like the only place in Rohan that could truly hide them from Saruman's spies.

"We will remain on the borders of it, I promise." Éomer had spoke, trying to reassure his most skeptical and afraid soldiers. He had looked weary, tired, almost desperate. Surely a consequence of the events in Edoras.

Faramir hadn't slept well that night. He had been seeing things... But was completely unable to tell if they were nightmares or foresights. The Palantír... Minas Tirith invaded... Nazgûls... Minas Morgul... Sauron... Boromir... There was something very wrong with him... So much darkness, so much pain, for no apparent reason... Faramir couldn't stop worrying about his brother, but in a way he had never been before, for this time, he had no idea what was wrong with him. Or maybe... No. Still...

On the second day, they had planned how their attack would be going, and it had soon becomes clear to everyone that it was suicide. They were too few, despite the fact that nearly a hundred warriors had chosen to follow Éomer. They needed help. But from who ? The discussion had soon turned into an argument, and no solution had been found in the end.

Legolas hadn't spoke a word. He was leaning against a tree, eyes closed, looking deep in thought. Eventually, he had stepped forward and spoken :

"Why not call for the aid of the Ents ?"

At first, every Rohirrim had laughed, throwing comments like :

"Yes, why not. Maybe we will be able to overrun Isengard in the Fifth Age."

"And why would they help them."

But Aragorn, Gimli and Faramir had thought about it, and soon enough, the Rohirrim followed. And it turned out this wasn't so much of a bad idea. Saruman was slowly deforesting Fangorn, destroying the Ents' very homeland... And Legolas was an Elf... Elves were good with trees...

And less than ten minutes later, Legolas was leaving for the heart of Fangorn, insisting that no one followed him, for Ents weren't truly keen on receiving much visitors, especially men.

And so, the discussions had ended. Everything was now awaiting for the Elf to come back, taking a moment to rest their tired minds.

* * *

Faramir closed his eyes, but knew he would never be able to sleep. He had not stopped thinking about his brother, and he was afraid. No. Not afraid. Terrified. The more he had thought about him, the more his certitudes had become to waver, before finally vanishing. And what seemed now to be the truth, indeed, terrified him.

'What have You done to him ?' he thought in fear and despair. He did not even know why. What was he thinking ? That He would answer him ? The worry had made him act without thinking straight. That was stupid. He needed to pull himself together, and quick.

But suddenly, Faramir felt the barriers around his mind begin to waver and, before the man could realise what was happening, Sauron himself was here and stood tall in all his dark majesty in front of him, a deep and dark laugh echoing painfully his mind. Faramir felt himself involuntarily shaking in fear, and closed his fists tightly to hide it, vainly. What... How... Oh, no...

"What are You doing here ? Haven't you had enough ?" Faramir asked through gritted teeth. By the stars ! He was burning him. No... Not again...

"You call me, I come." the deep voice answered in a mischievous laughter that made the young man wince in pain. He felt the Dark Lord's attempts to break through his defenses, but this time, he resisted. Yet he was afraid it would not last long. He had to push Sauron back, now !

Faramir closed his eyes and gathered all his will into pushing the Enemy away. It seemed to work at first, but the man was too exhausted and his strengths were decreasing every minute. Yet, he kept stubbornly going on. It was partly his fault He had come here, he _had_ to win this battle.

* * *

Sauron could not believe what was happening. The man was winning, he was pushing _Him_ , the Dark Lord, the Lord of the Rings, away. How could this be ? Of every men, the one gifted of foreseeing had to be strong ? Nay, impossible. Men weren't strong. They all had a weakness. Even this _Aragorn_ had one. And so did the son of the Steward. This weakness was what they called _'love'_.

The Dark Lord knew His time was running out. He had to choose his words carefully.

"You are right about your brother. I am the one plaguing him."

Sauron felt the man's concentration waver for a second, but that was not enough.

'Curse it. Curse these elf lords and their mind-shielding.'

The Lord of the Rings was losing his strengths. Too quickly.

"I am his only hope of salvation. All you have to do is kneel and I will save him." He rapidly added, hiding the despair and hurry in his voice.

This time was his last shot. Sauron had already lost too much energy the last two times. But He needed the man, He needed his foresights, He had to succeed !

"Never !" Faramir answered sharply, but weakly, and that did not escaped the Dark Lord. He had an idea. He knew of the gondorian's greatest weak spot. He had it under his control. Maybe if He simply... Aye, aye, this might work... But He would have only one shot... And the elves might arrive soon... Why weren't they already here, by the way ? Nevermind. This was the least of His problems.

"Then prepare to have his death on your conscience." He spoke, smiling in satisfaction. This was a good plan.

Sauron then focused back on the older man that had been left in Edoras. The man he had been plaguing since a few days in order to weaken his younger brother's mind.

A loud scream of pain suddenly filled the Healing Wards, echoing into His mind and Faramir's. The Dark Lord smiled. Oh ! What a sweet music to his ears ! Melkor would have not done better.

Sauron then quickly focused back on Faramir and his evil smile widened even more. The man had fallen on his knees, his hands covering his ears, a beautiful wince of pain creasing his features, sparkling tears streaming down his face. But more importantly, the barriers around his mind were wavering. Eventually seeing his shot, Sauron broke through it. He was not strong enough to take control over the man, but that was not what He had been looking for... Where was it...? Here ! He had found it !

But at the same time, two white silhouettes appeared before Him. Lord Elrond and Lord Celeborn. A deep laugh escaped the Dark Lord. So He had indeed hurt Lady Galadriel... Interesting...

"Back away ! Leave him !" Lord Elrond shouted at Him.

Sauron knew He was not strong enough to fight the two Elves once more. But that did not matter. He had found what He had been seeking.

"With pleasure." He replied before disappearing in a cloud of fire, a wide smile on his face.

* * *

Aragorn could not help but feeling concerned about Legolas. He hadn't been particularly agreeing with the idea of leaving his friend going into the forest alone, but it was for the best. And hopefully, he could count on Gimli to reassure him :

"Now come on, we've survived Caradhras, Moria, Parth Galen, and you're afraid that some trees might represent a danger for an Elf ?"

And Aragorn could only agree with the dwarf. He was surely overreacting.

"Do you think the Ents will truly help us ?" the worried voice of Éomer interrupted his thoughts. Aragorn took some seconds to study the fair-headed man. He surely did not look well. There were dark circles under his eyes and he seemed constantly alert and tensed, for he kept glancing worriedly around him.

"I think they will, yes. Have faith."

Looking slightly reassured, the man sat down next to Aragorn and Gimli and they simply stared at the soldiers before them in silence. Most of them, including Faramir, had fallen asleep against trees or on their couches, but some kept pacing back and forth, looking awfully stressed, just like their Lord did.

"You should take some rest." Aragorn suggested the younger man, who replied him with a small chuckle.

"Even if I wanted to, I am not sure I would be able to-..."

The young Lord was interrupted by a pained moan coming from Faramir's couch.

An instant later, Aragorn and Gimli were on their feet, hurrying to the man's side. This was surely another nightmare. They had to wake him up.

"Faramir ?" Aragorn tried, gently shaking the young man by his shoulders.

His only answer was another moan, quickly followed by a gasp and a cry.

"Faramir !" Aragorn cried, now attempting to slap the man awake, but this did nothing. By the Valar, he was getting much harder to awake !

"Éomer ! Your flask ! Now !" he shouted as Faramir kept screaming, looking in terrible pain. Immediately after, the dark-haired man poured the water on the younger Ranger's face.

He choked on it and the blue eyes suddenly shot open, filled with a look of pure fear.

"Faramir ? You with us, lad ?" Gimli gently asked, grabbing the man's shoulder.

He was breathing quickly, too quickly.

"It is alright, Faramir. You're back, it was just another nightmare. It is alright." Aragorn tried to soothe him, but Faramir hurriedly shook his head, eyes still wide open, before whispering something. Aragorn's breath caught in his throat when he recognised the word.

_Sauron..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is ! I don't really know what to think of the quality of this chapter, because I wrote most of it while making boxes and listening to music... I've checked it twice already, and I truly don't know what to think.
> 
> I hope you liked it anyway, and if not, please tell me what I could improve.
> 
> Stay well !


	19. The Last March of the Ents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... Chapter 19... I prefer to warn you : this chapter will be darker than the previous ones and... I've written something bad, but I had planned this since I began the story so... Don't kill me now, please...Again, thanks to all of you who are reading, bookmarking and leaving comments on this story !  
> Hope you'll enjoy !

Legolas brought a hand to his mouth to hide another yawn. By Eru ! This council had begun at least an hour ago ! Ents were not mean or unfriendly at all (unlike some tales used to depict them), but... Well, they took their time...

The Elf had first found the Ent named Treebeard (or maybe Treebeard had found him, who knows) almost by accident. Legolas had been following an invisible path the trees had been showing him when he had suddenly found himself face to face with the Ent. This had left him quite confused and speechless, for it was the first time Legolas saw one of these old creatures other than in a book.

"Burárum... So you are the 'friend' the Trees were telling me about ? An Elfling..." the Ent had spoke, leaning forward to take a closer look at the visitor.

Legolas had not spoke a word, lost in the contemplation of the overly tall being. He seemed so old, yet so strong... A great wisdom could easily be read in his deep green eyes.

"Well ? Have you lost your tongue, Elfling ?"

"I... No, my apologies Hír Onod. I am Legolas Thranduilion, from the Woodland Realm. I speak here in the name of every free-people of Middle Earth and of every tree living on the Eastern border of Fangorn : we need your help. We need the Ents' help." the Elf had eventually answered, regaining his voice back.

Legolas yawned once more and soon, his mind drifted away from reality. Sellenya... He wished they would have had more time in Lothlórien... It had been the first time they had been able to meet in her homeland, and it seemed like they wouldn't meet again for a long time... He missed her. Why was love so painful ? First, he had lost his dear Tauriel to a dwarf, and now... Now Legolas feared that he might not see his beloved again in a place other than the Halls of Mandos...

The Elf pressed his lips into a thin line and closed his eyes.

'Ilúvatar, Len iallon, nathal sen... Nathal syn...' _[Ilúvatar, I beg You, spare her... Spare them...]._

He opened his eyes once more. The Ents did not seem to have ended their discussion yet.

"Fangorn," Legolas called the great Ent, "How are the discussions going ?"

"Hroom, hm. I have told your name to the Entmoot, and we have agreed you could be trusted."

The Elf's eyes opened wide and a nervous laugh escaped him. That was it ? No no no, it was enough ! He would not wait any longer ! Saruman needed to be defeated, and quickly !

"Follow me, I will show you what Saruman is doing to your lands !" he declared, stepping in the middle of the circle of Ents.

"But, burárum, Saruman is friend of the Ents-..."

"Come with me."

* * *

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I could not warn you, I'm so sorry..."

"It is alright Faramir. You did everything you could." Aragorn told the shaking man while gently rubbing his shoulder. Most of the Rohirrim were giving them questioning glances, but hopefully, Gimli dismissed it quite rapidly :

"It was just another nightmare, don't worry about him."

Aragorn did not like having to lie to those loyal and faithful soldiers, but if they knew what was happening in Faramir's mind, they would've surely refused to even come near him.

"Wh-Why did he say that name ?" the dark haired ranger heard Éomer ask in a very low and afraid voice. Aragorn bit his lip. He had hoped the young Lord wouldn't have heard this. Should he tell him the truth ? No, no, surely not. The fair headed man already enough issues to deal with at the current time.

"I am afraid he's had a dream of him." he lied. Faramir gave him a confused look, but Aragorn nodded slightly, in a way of telling the younger Ranger to trust him.

"Oh..." answered Éomer, the look of fear quickly turning into one of deep compassion, "I am very sorry," said he, bowing slightly before the Steward's son.

"Aragorn ?" Gimli interrupted, "May I have a word with you ?"

The man nodded and got up to follow the dwarf a few steps away from the camp.

"Do you think it'll be wise for him to come with us ? If _He_ knows he's in Isengard..." the dwarf told him, sounding concerned.

"I am aware of that, my friend. But what choice do we have ? He cannot stay behind by himself, and we will need every soldier we can get... I hope there was another way, but alas..." Aragorn replied. Gimli lowered his head in defeat. Unfortunately, he knew Aragorn was right...

* * *

"Now, what took you so long, Princeling ? Do not tell me the Woodelf got lost in the woods !" Gimli teased when he caught sight of the swift figure of the Elf walking to him. Even though he would never admit it in front of his friend, he did feel relieved to finally see the Elf coming back after such a long time.

Said Elf simply smiled at his Dwarven friend and an instant later, a huge crack was heard in the forest and six... No, seven tree-like, extremely tall beings appeared behind him. Gimli's mouth hung open in surprise. They... They were... Ents... Real ones... They were so much bigger than what the dwarf had been expecting...

"Oh by the stars, Torfrith, pinch me, I must be dreaming." Gimli heard the voice of a Rohirrim behind him. Oh, by Aulë, he understood him. This was so surreal...

"I found valuable allies." Legolas said, a wide smile on his face.

* * *

Éomer took a deep breath. The Black Tower of Orthanc was standing tall right in front of them, they could see all the Orcs pacing or fighting around. And what were the Ents and Rohirrim doing ? Running right into them of course. Oh, by the Valar, they were so dead.

* * *

The Ents had broken through the wall. They were in. There was no way back, they had to fight. All of them, for even though the Ents were of great help, the tree-like beings simply could not handle all the Orcs of Isengard on their own.

Faramir was fighting in the middle of his friends. Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli and even Éomer. By seeing the way they defeated the awful creatures around them, one could have thought they were mind-speaking to each other, for they looked perfectly synchronised. While one of them blocked a blow, another pierced with his blade the chest of their opponent.

Faramir truly wished this could have last until the end of the battle, until Saruman was defeated. Mayhap it would have, if only Aragorn's leg had been fully healed, if Legolas had had the time to truly get some rest, if Gimli hadn't suffered such a high number of wounds and bruises at Parth Galen and if every fighter hadn't had so much on their mind... So many 'if'...

"Aragorn !" cried Faramir as he saw the dark blade slicing through the air and aiming at the older man's head. The older Ranger hadn't seen it... Faster than he could have imagined, Faramir grabbed his friend's neck with one hand and quite roughly pulled him down. The scimitar nearly cut off some of of Aragorn's hair, but nothing more.

Unfortunately, said scimitar belonged to an Uruk-Hai. And Uruks were much taller and stronger than Orcs. Before he could realise what was happening, Faramir felt a strong arm colliding with his chest and sending him to fly away from his companions.

'Oh please, not again...'

The breath was knocked out of his lungs as his back eventually met the hard ground. He painfully lifted his head, realising with horror that his sword had been knocked out of his hand. Yet the Orcs and Uruks had suffered a great deal of losses, so the young man only had to extend his arm to grab the handle of a heavy and hastily crafted scimitar lying on the ground before rapidly getting back on his feet. But apparently, Faramir had not been quick enough, for he found himself completely surrounded by dozens and dozens of opponents. Perfect.

Feeling tears coming to his eyes, the man yelled in despair and literally threw himself on his adversaries. Why...? Why always him ? Why him, a son rejected out of love by his selfish father. Him, a soldier that hated war and only knew the very basis in swordfight ? Why him when the people surrounding him were a Lord of the Mark, the heir of the Woodland Realm and, most of all, the heir of Isildur. Why ? Only because of this 'gift', this 'curse' or whatever it was...

Oh, he perfectly knew why it felt like if the entire Isengard had decided to gather around him... But they would not get him alive without a fight ! This had to stop ! And if they did get him... He would leave them only a dead body to deal with.

"Faramir !" the man heard his friends' desperate cry as they tried to reach him, to help him. But it was completely useless. The enemies were too numerous.

"Get an Ent over here !"

"They already have a fight to handle on their own !"

Faramir was fighting fiercely, the heavy blade that was not his, tearing mercilessly apart the Orcs' bodies, almost like his brother would. He wasn't even aware of his surroundings anymore, he felt as if he were in a trance. He wasn't aware of the pile of dead bodies around him, wasn't aware of the blood staining his face and clothes, he wasn't aware that much of the blood was his.

But he was suddenly got out of this kind of second state by a harrowing shriek that rang through the air. He and every other fighter dropped their weapons and fell on their knees as an inevitable fear and pain took hold on their heart and mind. Even the Orcs and Uruks were forced to shake. Some of the Rohirrim screamed, some of them began to cry, some of the Ents involuntarily took a step back, but everyone, absolutely everyone was staring at the dark dot that appeared in the sky.

Weakly, shakingly, reluctantly Faramir turned his head to meet the deathly glare of the dark beast behind him. He could not get up, could not move away, he was completely frozen in his feet by both incredible and uncontrollable fear. The Nazgûl was getting closer to him rapidly, too rapidly and he didn't have the means to escape it.

Faramir closed his eyes.

This was the end.

* * *

"N-No..." was the only word that could get past Legolas' lips at the sight. The Witch-King of Angmar. But that was not the worst. The worst was what its dark beast was now grasping in its claws and taking away. Faramir.

The Elf desperately wanted to grab his bow, lying right next to him, but he couldn't. He wanted to stop the beast, to kill it, to kill its rider, but the only thing he could do was to take a step back in fear. He did not want to be afraid, Elves shouldn't be so easily impressed. Yet, his entire body was shaking and he could not help it. He _was_ afraid, like he had never been in his entire long life. He was trying to get control back over it, but no matter how hard he tried to master his fear, he couldn't. This was the first time he experienced something like this, the first time he found himself face to face with the Witch-King. The Elf had known that Nazgûls had the power to bring a great fear in the heart of their enemies, but he hadn't expected this to be that strong. He was completely frozen. Everyone was. Rohirrim, Ents, even Aragorn and Gimli. They desperately wanted to do something to help, to shoot the beast down, to free their friend from the deadly grip. But their body wasn't responding anymore. Fear had overtook them

They could only stare shakingly as the dark beast took the young man away from them.

* * *

As soon as the terrible shriek was out of ear reach, every soldier and Ent got back to their senses, all fear leaving their heart. When their mind eventually realised what had just happened, an inqualifiable rage filled their minds and they resumed the fight like enraged beasts. It was the Orcs' fault. Everything was their fault. It was their fault the Nazgûl had captured their companion. They had to pay. Oh Saruman was going to suffer !

Their rage and desire for revenge was so great and blinding that they didn't even try to block the blows anymore. All they wanted to do now was to kill, and kill, and kill, no matter how many wounds they received.

The Ents were particularly virulent. So virulent that the Orcs and Uruks were actually running away from them.

* * *

Less than an hour later, the fight was over and Aragorn fell to his knees, tears of guilt and despair running down his face. He felt so responsible for what had happened... No victory shall be celebrated this night. They had lost too much...

The man felt two hands grabbing his shoulders at the same time. He lifted his face to meet the crying faces of Legolas and Gimli. Very rare were the occasions when the Ranger had seen his elven friend to cry like this, freely. They did not say anything. No words were needed to express how they all felt.

"Fools ! You have all lost !" Aragorn eventually lifted his head at the sound of Saruman's deep voice. The White Wizard was standing tall on top on the Black Tower, a satisfied grin on his face, holding proudly a dark Palantír in front of him. A small, dark dressed man was hiding behind him.

'Gríma...'

"Did you truly think you had fought all of Isengard's army ?," the old man continued, "As we speak, the other half of my Orcs and Uruk-Hai are marching on Rohan ! All of this was part of Sauron's plan ! You have lost."

By the time he was finished, Aragorn had put his head on his fists in despair while Éomer let out a heart-tearing cry.

An instant later, Saruman was falling from the tower, an elven arrow buried deep in his heart.

* * *

_ A Lament for Lothlórien _

Sellenya watched with a determined look on her face the four dark beasts that were flying over the trees. Their final destination was not hard to guess. This was to be expected. Lady Galadriel was hurt, mayhap even dying, and the greatest part of Lórien's soldiers and inhabitants were already on their way to the Grey Havens. No doubt The Enemy had found out about this.

Sellenya knew there was no other choice than to fight, even though she had never carried a sword in her entire life. But what choice did she have ? If her destiny was to die indeed, she would die fighting, not on her knees.

'Díheno nin, meleth-nîn.' _[Forgive me, my love.]_

* * *

**_ Translation : _ **

**Hír** **Onod :** _Lord Ent_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, most of you had asked for a dark story, so... here we are (please, don't kill me right now) ! I hope you still liked it !Now, about next chapter, would you like me to write about Frodo's group or keep writing about this one ?
> 
> I hope you are all staying well !


	20. The Forests of Ithilien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I really want to apologise for the length of this chapter, I know this is much shorter than the other times, but I was too overbooked to write more. So sorry.
> 
> This is centered around Frodo and the others and you will find some Thranduil content in the end, 'cause I've decided to include him and the Mirkwood Elves in the story.
> 
> Thank you again for all the lovely feedback and I hope you'll enjoy this chapter !

"Gandalf ? Do we agree that Minas Morgul is the place where the Na... Nagazûls live ?" Pippin asked in a worried tone. Gandalf sighed.

"Yes. For the third time, young Peregrin, yes, it is the place where the Nazgûls live." the Wizard answered in a sharp and perhaps slightly annoyed voice.

"Then why are we going there ?"

Gandalf closed his eyes for a moment, unsure if he was supposed to laugh or yell at the young Hobbit. Fortunately, Merry answered before he could say anything :

"Do you prefer to go through the Black Gates, Pip' ? With all the Orcs awaiting for us ?"

The youngest Hobbit shivered at the thought.

"Of course not !" he replied hastily, "But are you sure there is no other way ?"

Gandalf let out one of the greatest sigh Middle Earth had ever heard.

'Fool of a Took.'

Frodo brought a hand to his chest and moaned involuntarily as he felt another wave of burning sensation overtaking his body. But that was not much compared to what he had been through before, no. What was getting worse, however, was Its weight. The closer they got to Mount Doom, the heavier It became, and this left the young Hobbit exhausted quite rapidly. Much too rapidly in And there was also this feeling of being constantly watched that had now completely overtook Frodo's mind and, truth to be told, Gollum did nothing to help it, for it kept shooting the Hobbit yearning glances. Yet, Frodo could not be too mad at the poor creature.

Oh ! He knew all too well what kind of effects did the One Ring have on someone's spirit. Lady Galadriel herself had seemed to have trouble resisting Its lure.

For now, the young Hobbit considered himself quite lucky, in a way, for every time the Ring tried to take his mind back into this dark and evil world, he could count on every one of his companions to bring him back to reality. He was so fortunate to have them here.

If only there had been truly everyone here...

The simple fact of not being able to tell if their friends were alive or not made Frodo's stomach twist.

The Hobbit was suddenly brought out of his reverie when he felt Gandalf's strong hand upon his chest. He looked around him, quite surprised to see they were in a forest, now. Gandalf had told him they would surely cross the forests of Ithilien. This was surely it. But how could have he been so distracted not to realise were they were ? Another side effect of being the Ring-bearer, apparently.

"Gandalf ? What is-..." he began but stopped immediately when he saw the Wizard bringing a finger to his lips and then pointing at Sméagol in front of them. Frodo frowned. The creature had stopped and was looking frantically around him, as if sensing some kind of danger. He perfectly knew that this added with the wave of burning he had felt could not be a coincidence...

"Mister Frodo... Your sword !" Sam called, shakingly pointing at the sheath on Frodo's belt. The Hobbit stared at it for some seconds in fear before slowly grabbing the sword handle and unsheathing Sting. His breath got caught in his throat at the sight. It was shining bright blue. There were Orcs in the woods.

"Oh no no no..." Pippin whispered in despair.

"Hide behind a tree ! Put your elven cloaks on ! Hurry !" Gandalf ordered while gently pushing the Hobbits on behind a quite large oak, Gollum still preceding them and looking completely terrified.

And suddenly, an awful cry rang. Frodo gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, desperately grasping Sting in his hands, awaiting for the worse. But, surprisingly, the fight never came and soon, the sound of clashing swords echoed in the woods behind them.

"Get them !" an unknown voice yelled.

"The Rangers..." Gandalf whispered, relief evident in his voice

"Faramir's Rangers ?" Pippin asked the Wizard quite excitingly.

"I guess so, yes, young Took."

A small yelp of joy escaped the youngest Hobbit. Faramir had told him so much about them !

Soon enough, the fight ended. But unfortunately, the companions had absolutely no mean to guess who had won.

"Stay there." Gandalf simply stated before walking out of the tree.

Frodo involuntarily swallowed in apprehension. He did not like when Gandalf left him alone like that. He felt so vulnerable.

"Don't worry, mister Frodo. He will be back in a minute," Sam tried to reassure his Master, sensing his uneasiness and gently grabbing his shoulder.

"Thank you, Sam," he replied gratefully.

"Ssstupid, nasssty Orcsss !" Gollum suddenly shouted for no apparent reason. Every Hobbit jumped in surprise. That was unexpected. Why on Middle Earth...?

"You may come out !" Gandalf's voice interrupted. Frodo breathed out a sigh of relief when he heard the Wizard's deep and reassuring voice, "The Orcs have been defeated."

Deveron hissed an eyebrow in surprise at the sight of the five creatures that were following Mithrandir. They looked so small... And one of them... Deveron had to admit an involuntary wince of disgust appeared on his face. So thin, so pale, so... ugly. Unfortunately, there was no other word to describe it. And the way it was looking at the Rangers was not really appealing.

"Young Hobbits, meet Deveron, second in Command of Faramir, and current Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien until Faramir's return." Mithrandir told the four little ones. Deveron smiled as they all attempted to bow shyly at him.

"It is an honour to meet you, young ones," the second in command answered gently, "Though I hoped it had been in better times." he then added sadly.

"Deveron, how is the situation in Gondor ?" Gandalf asked quite suspiciously. Deveron lowered his head in mild-despair, but did not answer.

"Deveron ?" the Istar insisted. The Ranger had, unfortunately, no choice but to answer.

"Osgiliath has been lost. The Orcs are everywhere. The Steward has gone completely mad. He does not eat, does not sleep, he spends his entire time locked in his tower to stare at this... Palantír. He has even forbidden us to attack the Orcs."

"Then I see you have inherited your Captain's stubbornness and rebellious mind." Gandalf noted humourously, yet you could easily see the great trouble all over his face.

"Not exactly. The Rangers have been banished." Deveron explained. Even now, the words were difficult to pronounce and a single tear rolled down his cheek. For him, it was like if Gondor had just vanished with the Steward's sons.

Thranduil's head shot up when he heard the desperate plea and cries of pain from the trees. He got up from his throne and rushed outside, afraid of what he would learn. Maybe Legolas, his dear Greenleaf, was in danger, maybe-...

Thranduil gasped when he heard what the trees were trying to tell him.

Lothlórien was under attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go ! Again I am so so sorry for this much shorter chapter, but I'm moving Thursday and I simply didn't have the time to write more. I hope you still liked it ! Stay safe !


	21. Sons of the Steward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hem... Another quite dark chapter again, but hey, it will get better ! The first part is a kind of continuation of the previous one who was really shorter.
> 
> Again, thank you so much for reading and if you have any requests for the rest of the story, feel free to tell !
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy !

Pippin lowered his head at the bad news, but it quickly jerked back up at the sight of the awful faces of dead Orcs lying on dead leaves. To be true, at the moment, the Rangers looked nothing like he had expected them to. They weren't the proud, powerful and fearless soldiers the young Hobbit had imagined, no. They looked so sad, desperate, resigned and... Surprisingly not _that_ strong. They surely resembled their Captain for this.

After a small sigh, Deveron eventually asked in a concerned voice :

"Any news from our Captains ?"

At those words, Pippin involuntarily gulped. If only they had news, something, a hint to tell them the others were alive...

"We were forced to part in Parth Galen, and received no news from them since," answered Gandalf, unable to hide the sadness in his voice and it was Deveron's time to lower his head.

"I am sorry, young man," said the Wizard, putting a comforting hand on the young man's shoulder.

"I... I had hoped..." the young second in command began, but his voice suddenly broke, "My apologies..."

"What had you hoped ? Speak, Deveron. This might ease your mind," said Gandalf.

The Second in Command inhaled deeply before giving his hesitant answer :

"I... We had hoped they would have been the lights to force the shadow overtaking Gondor to back off... That they would have freed their father, our Steward, from his endless despair, anger and resignation... That... they would have come back rapidly to lead us into fight once more..."

Pippin stared at the man in deep compassion and a single tear streamed down the young Hobbit's face. Surely the Gondorians were very close to their Captains too. If only they'd been here...

Pippin felt the soft hand of Merry bringing him closer to his cousin.

"It's alright, Pip'. They're alright," whispered he, gently rubbing his younger cousin's back.

Oh ! If only they had known how wrong they were...

* * *

Though he did not let anyone see it, Gandalf felt terrible. Both physically and mentally. The exhaustion was taking its toll on him and he felt his strengths slowly but ineluctably vanishing. And his mind, his normally relaxed and sensible mind, was now filled with worry, sorrow and maybe the slightest hint of fear. This was the first time since long ago that this was happening to him. Since the time he had been imprisoned in Dol Guldur, to be exact.

And, unfortunately, the closer the companions got to Mount Doom, the more problematic it became and will become. How were they supposed to cross Mordor if the Wizard was too tired to use any of his powers ? Yet, surprisingly, this did not matter much, for Gandalf was not even sure that he would even be able to go through Cirith Ungol...

"Anyway... Where are you fi-... You six heading, if I may ask ?" Deveron shakingly and shyly inquired.

"We are following Sméagol here to the Path of Cirith Ungol."

The only colours that had been remaining on Deveron's and every other Ranger's face quickly left, their eyes opening wide in fear.

"C-Cirith U-Ungol...? A-Are you certain of this, Mithrandir ?" one of the Rangers eventually spoke while Deveron remained completely frozen, staring at the Wizard as if he'd been an Entwife.

Gandalf sighed. Did everyone think they had chosen to go through this Pass in a suicidal research of some adventure ?

"Yes. Yes, I am sure Celeg. This is our only known way other than getting through the Black Gates."

The Rangers' eyes widened even more (if that was possible).

"B-But Mithrandir... You'll have to cross Gondor which is now nearly under control of the Enemy, and then pass in front of Minas Morgul..." spoke Deveron, having finally gotten his voice back.

"I do know this, young man," lied the Grey Pilgrim. In truth, he had not thought a single time about the river... His mind was really getting slower...

"Some tales even speak of a giant spider living there... Shelob, is it called. You cannot do all of this alone," Deveron insisted, sounding concerned for the companions.

Gandalf felt Sméagol tensing beside him at the mention of the spider, but he quickly dismissed the thought. He had heard of those tales, too. But they simply needed to avoid stepping in its living place... Easier said than done...

"Yet, we have no choice, Deveron," answered he, quite sadly. The Second in Command shook his head hurriedly.

"This is not what I meant, Mithrandir. What I meant was that we were coming with you, as far as we can go."

At that same time, they heard a Nazgûl's mount flying fast over them, heading to the cursed fortress of Minas Morgul and apparently carrying something (or, in this case, someone) in its claws.

* * *

Éowyn was fighting. For the first time in her life, she _was_ fighting. A _real_ fight, with real enemies, and it felt... Weird. This wasn't what she had hoped or imagined at all. The fight was not glorious, nor heroic, it was desperate and had more of a massacre than a proper fight. A massacre they were, unfortunately, loosing. The Orcs and Uruks were outnumbering them greatly, and even the women and oldest children had joined the remaining army, grabbing forks and other poorly made weapons to help the brave soldiers.

For now, the enemies had not yet managed to pass the walls of Edoras, but it was only a matter of time before they did, for the number of fallen Rohirrim kept increasing, while the Orcs kept relentlessly crashing on them without mercy.

The young Lady fell on her back when an scimitar handle she had not seen coming crashed on the back of her helmet, leaving her completely overtook by dizziness and preventing her from getting up on her feet. Her vision went blurry and the last thing she was fully aware of was the Orc's heavy dead body crashing on her, a very fine crafted arrow protruding from his neck.

* * *

Haldir could not suppress a great sigh of relief when he saw that the Yrch had not yet broke through the weakening defenses of the Rohirrim. Maybe they were not too late after all...

"Go-vaethathanc ne ndagor ?" _[Will you join me in battle ?]_ asked he to his loyal soldiers, ready to sacrifice eternal life for the sake of Men.

"Ve thorthol," _[We are yours to command]_ answered his younger brother, Rúmil beside him. Haldir smiled sadly at him. His younger brother had chosen, too, to possibly renounce to sail for the folk of Men. Hopefully, Orophin was not here, for _he_ had chosen to remain in Lothlórien to watch over Lady Galadriel. He did not feel ready to leave Arda yet.

"Gurth ani chyth 'wîn !" _[Death to our enemies !]_ shouted Haldir to the other Elves behind him. The minute after, they were on the Yrch, fighting them in their usual deadly dance. Alas, again, the enemies were too numerous, and the advantage given by the effect of surprise was rapidly dismissed.

Even though Haldir's blade kept easily cutting through the Yrch's bodies, tainting the sparkling green grass with an evil black, his elven strengths were beginning to fade. His reflexes got slower and his aim got less and less precise. Oh, this could be manageable. For now. And Eru only knew for how long they would have had to fight like this.

Alas, as the battle went on and the amount of bodies covering the ground increased, Haldir found he had nearly lost focus on the current fight and his mind could easily drift off from exhaustion. And this had caused him already some minor wounds on his chest and armsThat was... Unusual... Never before had he felt this way...

The blond Elf was violently gotten out of his thoughts when his head was met an angry fist, forcing him to quickly take a step back to avoid falling. By the stars, he had been distracted again ! How was this possible ?

Shaking his head slightly to regain some sort of focus on the present situation and resumed his dance-like fighting.

"Rúmil !" yelled the Elf in alarm at the sight of a deadly scimitar flying to his younger brother's head.

Alas, the Elf could not see where it landed, for, at the same time, profiting of another moment of distraction from Haldir, plunged his dark blade right into the Elf's chest, an evil smile on its face, making him to involuntarily gasp at the sudden pain. Yet the smile quickly disappeared when an arrow appeared in its throat and the beast fell on the ground.

"HALDIR !" he heard two voices he easily recognised as Estel's and Legolas' desperately crying.

Swallowing painfully, desperately fighting the darkness that was slowly filling his vision, Haldir managed to stay upright and turned around to face his other enemies. He barely had the time to cut through an Orc's chest before he felt once more the blinding pain of a dirty blade penetrating his heart.

"NO !" the voices yelled again, but this time, Haldir couldn't even remember who they belonged to. The last things he saw were the blurry forms of a blond Elf and dark haired man dismounting a horse and running to catch the falling Elf in their arms.

"D-Dihe... D-Dihenalir... N-Nin..." _[Forgive me]_ he still managed Valar knows how to whisper before darkness overtook him completely.

* * *

When Faramir awoke, he was alone. Completely alone in some kind of dark cell. His wrists were bound tightly and painfully to the cold stone wall behind him, as were his ankles. He winced in pain. This place was completely filled with darkness... It hurt him so much... Where was he ? What had happened ? How did he got here ? He didn't have the strengths to even think about it...

Hopefully, he didn't have to, for he heard something approaching him. Something dark, evil... Something cursed... Oh no... He had not been alone at all... There was a Nazgûl here... He was in Minas Morgul...

Faramir could not restrain back the tears that began to slowly roll down his cheek...

'No... Please... What have I done...? Oh... I am so sorry... Brother, I am so sorry...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please don't kill me ! I know I killed Haldir, I know... I know Faramir is now definitely captured, I know... But things will get right eventually, I swear. Please stay with me a little more !
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter anyway !  
> A/N : I have successfully moved, but now, there are lots of boxes to unmake, so it might take a while till I will be able to update again. thank you for your comprehension :-)


	22. The Battle of Edoras

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back ! So so sorry for the huge delay, but I have been kinda overworked these past weeks and couldn't find any time to write...I hope you'll like the chapter, because I really enjoyed writing it. It is a bit more poetic than the others, I think.
> 
> As usual, requests or ideas are always welcome and thank you so much for all the feedback !

Aragorn could not restrain back a tear at the desolated landscape that laid in front of him. They had won the battle, but what had it cost ? Haldir, Rúmil and many other Lothlórien Elves had joined the Halls of Mandos, and a great, too great number of Rohirrim had perished. Soldiers and simple citizens. Men, women, even children... At least, their sacrifice had not been useless, for thanks to their courage and loyalty, the Enemy had not broke through the walls of Edoras.

Only the sight of Éomer holding tightly his slowly awakening sister in his arms had been able to bring a semblance of smile on the man's lips.

Soon, the heart-tearing melody of an Elven lament reached the Ranger's ears.

_A Quendima !_

_Manan elyë etevannë_

_Nórië i malanelyë ?_

The Elves were mourning their friends, their Captain, who had all fought until death, renouncing selflessly to the eternal peace of the Undying Lands.

_Egladhrim_ _, Golodhrim ! A bain Edhil !_

_Ú-reniathach i amar galen_

_I reniad lín ne môr, nuithannen._

Aragorn turned around, not quite surprised to see Legolas had joined the singing, kneeling beside the limps forms of two golden haired brothers. What did surprise him, however, was the red haired dwarf that stood close to his friend, eyes closed in contemplation.

_In gwidh ristennin, i fae narchannen_

_I Yrch ed ardhon gwannen_

_Calad veleg, ethuiannen._

Aragorn remained standing, unmoving. He did not have the strengths to join his two friends. The weight of guilt laid too great on him, so he simply stared, silent tears streaming down his face. He had failed. He had failed his friends, he had betrayed them. They hadn't been to late to save Edoras, but they had been too late for them... And Aragorn could not stop thinking that it was his fault... How was he supposed to take care of an entire people if he was not able to take care of his own friends ?

_Melmë nóren sina_

_Núra ala Eäro nur_

_Ilfirin nairelma_

Slowly, a whisper, at first soft but growing in intensity every second, began to reach the Ranger's grieving mind. I was a word... No, two words, repeated over and over again by the still standing Rohirrim :

"King Théoden..."

The Dúnedain turned his head to where the sound had first come from.

There stood King Théoden, strongly supported by two powerful Rohirrim. He had put an armour on and blood was slowly dripping from the side of his head and upper leg.

"Uncle !" cried both Éomer and Éowyn, hurrying to embrace the older man tightly.

"Oh dearests, I am so sorry..." answered he, shakingly.

'Looks like King Théoden is back.'

_Ilfirin nairelma_

_Ullumë nucuvalmë_

_Nauva i nauva._

* * *

Gimli could not hold back a small breath of relief at the sight of Boromir, still lying on his couch, but eyes now fully open and aware.

"What happened out here ?" asked the red haired man hastily as soon as the trio entered.

"Orcs attempted to break through the city walls," answered Gimli, gently patting the man's shoulder.

"And... I assume they did not succeed ?"

Gimli shook his head, putting a reassuring smile on his face to hide his own concern. The Elf and Aragorn had been unusually quiet since the end of the fight...

"No, they have not. How're you feeling, lad ?" asked the dwarf.

"Surprisingly well. It seems that the mysterious disease that had been ailing me simply vanished," the man answered almost cheerfully, which contrasted a lot with the true gravity of the situation. A situation he did not know about and that he would have to be told, eventually...

"We're glad to here that," Gimli answered for his still very silent companions.

"Why are the Elves here ?" Boromir asked, pointing with his chin the place where the injured Elves had been laid, "And why aren't you tended to ?" added he with a reproachful gaze to the three very wounded, limping, tired companions.

"The Elves came here to help," said the dwarf, unsuccessfully attempting to avoid the man's second question.

"There were two questions..."

Gimli sighed and turned to his other companions, a pleading look on his face. Legolas simply shook his head, indicating they were not ready to speak, yet, which increased even more the worry in the dwarf's mind. He knew very well that to keep his mind locked this way did nothing good, but now did not seem like the right time to start an argument about this.

"We... There are people that need attention more than we do..." answered he, eyes still fixed on his two other companions, apparently much more affected by the events than he was, which was not much surprising. Oh, Gimli was affected by what had happened too, deeply, but he did not have such a strong relationship with the Elves that had very sadly died... Nor did he have the same pressure and responsibility Aragorn had to bear on his shoulders.

"And where is my dear brother hiding ? Too occupied to charm Lady Éowyn to come and visit me ?" Boromir eventually asked the so unwanted question... But this... This was not the worst... The worst was how cheerful and playful he sounded...

The trio lowered their heads...

"Wait... Where is he ? Where is Faramir ?"

* * *

By the time he was told everything, Boromir had paled considerably. His entire body began to shake and small tears were streaming down his face.

"N-Nay... Nay nay nay nay..." was all he could manage to get past his trembling lips. He felt as if his mind was falling apart... He could not think about anything other than 'Gone'. Faramir was gone. His little brother, gone. The dearest person he had ever had in his life, gone... His little one...

He couldn't or did not want to hear what was happening around him. Nothing. Not even the sound of broken glass nor the small yelp Éowyn made from the couch she was sitting on. He did not hear her sobs, her older brother's comforting words, nor the sudden silence that filled the Healing Wards.

Then, all of a sudden, the blank in his mind was replaced with an unconditional rage.

"We have to go to Minas Morgul ! This is where they took him ! We have to get him back !"

"Boromir..." Aragorn interfered, putting a hand on the man's still strong shoulder to restrain him back, "Boromir, you know we cannot..."

"BUT THEY HAVE TO PAY !" the Gondorian yelled out before falling back on his bed and bursting out into tears.

"Oh, Faramir..."

"I'm so sorry Boromir... It's my fault... I have failed him, I have betrayed your trust..." Aragorn vegan, finally letting out a part of the guilt he had been accumulating since this had happened.

"No, Estel," Legolas interrupted, "It is _our_ fault, _we_ failed him. Not just you."

"We failed him, and now, let's go rescue him !" Gimli concluded in a falsely light tone.

"How ? We cannot do this, Gimli..."

"Aren't you the one whose elvish name means hope ? Come on Aragorn ! We will find a way ! There is no other choice !"

It all began with a strong sensation of being suddenly punched in the chest, knocking the breath out of him. Legolas could not help but groan slightly at the sudden wave of pain that crossed his body.

"Legolas ?" Aragorn and Gimli's worried voices reached his mind, but he did not have the breath to answer.

"Mellon-nîn, are you injured ?"

And then, he heard... Her voice... In his mind...

'Díheno nin, Meleth-nîn...'

"Û..." he barely whispered, involuntarily leaning against the Ward's wooden wall.

"What is it, lad ? Talk to us !" Gimli asked worriedly, strongly grabbing the Elf's wrist.

"Iaurië lantar lassi súrinen..." _[Golden_ _leaves fall into the wind...]_

* * *

Thranduil carefully bent down over the white, bloodied face of the Elleth, lying on the fallen leaves covering the ground. How foolish had she been, to hope _she_ could have stood against a Nazgûl ?

The Elvenking gently placed a hand on her chest, feeling quite relieved to feel its slow rise and fall. She moaned. Fortunately, she had been one of the first to fall, but her injuries weren't the worst ones (considering the fact that the worst injury they had seen so far would be three Morgul blade's wounds in the chest...).

Still, Thranduil was most thankful for this, for he knew all too well that his son, Legolas, would not have been able to bear another loss... It would have broken his heart... And if the King had had to face the loss of his only child... His little Greenleaf... It would have surely been the death of him...

Thranduil hastily brushed sparkling tears out of his face. He could not afford being seen this way.

Hopefully, none of this had happened. The Elves from Taur-nu-Fuin had arrived after the battle against the Nazgûls had begun, but they had not been too late. The Nazgûl had not been easy to defeat, but, once again, the Enemy had underestimated the Elves' fighting skills, and, more importantly, their loyalty to each other... Of course the Elvenking had come to help ! Lothlórien could not be lost at the hands of the Enemy !

The King was interrupted in his thoughts by the arrival of two Elves carrying a hastily made stretcher, closely followed by a third one

"Dihenal nin, Aran-nîn," _[Forgive me, my King]_ spoke he. The Elvenking lifted his head while the two other Elves gently lifted Sellenya on the stretcher.

"Listo," _[Please]_ answered he, getting up and rapidly gaining back his usual kingly pride and reserve, slowly nodding for the Ellon to continue.

"Aran-nîn, Hír Celeborn aníra peded na le," _[My King, Lord Celeborn wishes to speak with you.]_

Thranduil bowed his head in acknowledgement, before following the Elf up into the trees.

Faramir cried when the Witch King attempted to break into his mind once more. He resisted, again, but Valar knew how many blows like this he could still take...

Finally, the Nazgûl backed of with an abominable cry of frustration. Faramir breathed out deeply and lowered his head in exhaustion.

"You won't... break me..." he managed to say when it was over.

"We will see..." the cursed being answered in a slow and dark voice, "We want... What you saw... What you see... And what you are about to see... You cannot resist... Lord Sauron saw... Your plan of attack against Isengard... You did not resist him... You will give us... The way to win this war..."

The Witch King laughed evilly, observing how Faramir's face discomposed itself at the news...

"Your mind... Is weak... Man... Soon... It will break... And victory will be ours !"

With that, the Witch King came closer again to the young man and prepared itself for another hit.

'Please... No...'

* * *

** Lament Translation (I used Gandalf's lament and modified it a bit) : **

_Oh fair Elves !_

_what drove you to leave_

_land which you loved ?_

_Sindar, Noldor, O Fair Elves_

_No more you will wander the world green_

_Your journey in darkness stopped._

_The_ _bonds cut, the spirit broken_

_Orcs have left this World_

_Great light has gone out._

Our _love for this land_

_Is deeper than the deeps_

_Of the sea._

_Our_ _regret is undying_

_Yet we will cast all away_

_Rather than submit._

_What_ _should be shall be._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked the chapter ! From now on, I think I will update only once a week, probably on Saturdays, because school is really taking... Hope you're okay with this !


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here goes chapter 23 ! I hope you'll like it ! (as usual, all the translations of the songs are in the end)

They had not yet make it out of the forest, when a soft voice reached the Ranger's ears :

"Sir ! Look ! In front of us !"

Deveron looked at where the Hobbit named Sam pointed and gasped at the sight. There laid a small party of Gondorian soldiers, some wounded, but most of them, dead.

"Nay..." said one of the soldiers as he rushed past the Second in Command and Gollum.

"Astor ! Wait !" Deveron shouted uselessly, running after his man. It was foolish ! They did not know if what had attacked the party was still here !

The young Ranger suddenly fell on his knees with a terrible cry when he reached one of the bodies.

A worried look on their faces, both Gandalf and Deveron hurried next to the crying man, closely followed by the Hobbits and the rest of the Rangers... The Second in Command's breath caught up in his throat at the side of the lifeless body Astor was holding tightly in his arms, which was quickly followed by various gasps and cry from the other Rangers when they found friendly faces amongst the dead or wounded soldiers. Oh, they should've gotten used to this by now, gotten used to found Gondorian parties massacred like this... It had become a quite common sight... Yet it was something one could not get used to...

Deveron had his eyes completely locked on the dead body Astor kept rocking back and forth in his arms, wetting his light armour with hot tears... He could not get his eyes away from the dark brown glazed eyes, the ginger hair, the thin lips and nose...

Alas, Deveron knew this man... He had known him since his youngest years... They had shared so much together...

This man was named Amdir, Astor's older brother and Deveron's childhood friend...

The Second in Command fell on his knees next to his man and gently closed Amdir's eyes, for his brother did not seem to have the strengths to do it.

Bitting is lips in a vain attempt to hide his tears, Deveron, gently brought a sobbing Astor close to his chest.

"I'm sure he is fine where he is," Deveron whispered, "He has joined his ancestors amongst the stars..."

Then, turning his head to face Gandalf, standing behind him, he added :

"You see, Mithrandir ? This is Gondor now. We are forbidden to fight, while the Enemy doesn't hesitate to strike whenever and wherever he wants to... Gondor is nothing more than a land of desolation..."

The Wizard gently bent down and put a hand on Astor's shoulder. He did not say a single word.

* * *

Neither did Frodo say a word. He simply stared at the scene that played before him. They had burried the dead and taking care of the wounded. Every Ranger had put his hood on their head and remained silent. Frodo knew what he had to do. He had to destroy the ring, no matter what. There was no other choice.

* * *

Éowyn couldn't and did not even try to restrain back her tears at the sight of the many litters both Elves and Men were carrying down the hill. One of them, the first one, she could not get her eyes off. It carried only one soldier. A brave soldier. One that had fell before the others. Her cousin, Théodred. She lowered her head. The sight of his white, lifeless face was too much for her to bear. Immediately, her brother and uncle grabbed her shoulders and held her firmly. But she did not look up, not even when the litter was brought nearly under her eyes, not even when Théodred was gently pushed in his richly decorated tomb.

She did look up only when the tomb was closed and that her cousin was out of sight. Taking a small step forward, straightening herself up, not bothering to wipe her tears away, she took a deep breath and began the lament she had wished she would not have had to sing so early.

_Bealocwealm hafað fréone frecan forth onsended_

_Giedd sculon singan gléomenn sorgiende on Meduselde_

_Thæt he ma no wære, his dryhtne dyrest_

_And maga deorost_

_Bealo…_

A long silence followed the Lady's words. Tears were running freely down her face. A part of her could not help but feel that the lament also addressed to the Gondorian Faramir, who had, he too, been lost to the Enemy. In another way of speaking.

Soon it was the Elves'turn to step forward and to begin another heart breaking lament, to pay homage to their own people, but also to the brave Rohirrim who had fought for their land until death.

_Ai! laurië lantar lassi súrinen,_

_yéni únotimë ve ramar aldaron!_

_yéni ve lintë…_

_Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien._

_Sinomë maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta!_

Oh ! Their fair voices held so much pain and sadness... But also a powerful determination not to leave this crime unpunished. And all of their feelings spread into the crowd like water. Éowyn knew what she had to do. Rohan had been highly diminished, but not vanquished. She would fight. Fight for her lands, for her people, for those who had perished, for all the Elves that had selflessly renounced to eternal life to save Men. She would fight for those she had lost. Her family... Faramir of Gondor...

She would fight for Middle-Earth.

* * *

They were drinking, yes, but not celebrating. There was nothing to celebrate. Isengard had fallen, Rohan had been saved, but so much had been lost... And the fall of Isengard had apparently been planned by the Enemy... They had lost leaders, brave soldiers, family, long time friends... Lovers...

Legolas bit his lip at the remembrance of the glazed and unseeing eyes of Haldir... The two Elves had not known each other for a long time, yet they had almost immediately become friends...

This thought quickly dismissed from his mind to, once more, avoid crying before the Men and Lorien Elves,Legolas involuntarily began to think of Sellenya... This punch he had felt in his chest... The pain... Her voice... Oh, Valar ! How much he wished she had been spared by the war... He had prayed vainly... He had kept her away from the pain, but pain had come to her... Now he could do nothing but hope that whatever had happened to Lothlórien, to her had not been fatal...

The Prince brought a hand on his face, faking the movement of pushing his hair out of his eyes, while he actually brushed away a small tear in the corner of his pale blue eye.

His gaze slowly landed on the round form Estel was carrying in his travel pack... He could've used this to see...

No ! No, he wouldn't ! He couldn't !

Yet, now, he understood why Denethor had succumbed to darkness...

* * *

There they all sat. Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Boromir, Éomer and Théoden, around a great wooden table, surrounded by beautiful tapestries representing for most of them horses.

"There has to be a way ! There is always a way !" Boromir yelled out, smashing his fist against the table and getting up from his chair before starting to pace in the large hall. He sounded so different from the shocked and grieving man he had been only moments ago.

"I am afraid the only way to get inside is by strength. This place hosts one of the greatest parts of Mordor's army. There, Rohan is too weakened to be of any use..." Théoden explained calmly to the younger man.

"Then we will ask help from my father !" he countered, vainly, for the comment only owed Boromir a small chuckle from both the King and his nephew.

"Denethor ? You are not serious, boy... Why would he help us to rescue his _second born_ ?"

"Don't you dare-..." Boromir began, but was interrupted by the strong hand of Aragorn on his shoulder.

"Get off me !" the Gondorian shouted at him, "I will not tolerate that kind of nonsense ! My father may be a firm man, but he is not heartless !"

This time, both Théoden and Éomer rose from their seats, but it was, once again, the king who spoke in a quite aggressive tone :

"Not heartless ? Then where was Gondor when the Wesfold fell ? Where was Gondor when our enemies closed in around us ? Where was Gondor...? Where was your father...?"

To that, Boromir could find no reply or retort... So he sat back on his seat and buried his head in his hands.

"We could try..." Gimli began, "There's nothing to lose..."

"But what if Denethor refuses ? We will not simply go back to where we came from..." Éomer argued.

"Point." admitted the dwarf, reluctantly.

"Mylord Aragorn ? Mylord Legolas ? Any suggestions ?" asked the King of Rohan.

"Alas, I wish I had..." answered Legolas, not even bothering to look directly at the King, eyes fixed on an invisible point on the table, seemingly lost in thoughts. Seeing the Elf's trouble, Gimli began to gently pat his back.

"In fact, I think I might have a suggestion..." said Aragorn, pinching the bridge of his nose in reflexion.

"Then speak, please !"

"The Army of Dead..."

* * *

"You do not have to join us, my King. This quest is not Rohan's..."

"The Elves have sacrificed themselves for us, Aragorn. It is our duty to honor their selfless act..."

"But the Elves have sacrificed themselves to keep the people of Rohan alive ! Not to see than killed moments after !"

"No, Mylord. I think they have saved Rohan so that there would be someone to carry on the fight for Middle-Earth in their stead."

* * *

Thranduil immediately and almost automatically straightened himself up when the Elf introduced him to Lord Celeborn :

"Hír-nîn ? Aran Thranduil," _[My Lord ? King Thranduil]_ Elf Lord sat on the edge of the bed on which rested his way too pale wife, Lady Galadriel. He had not yet took his armour off and silvery blood dripped from small scratches on his face.

"Hannon-le, Aran Thranduil," he simply told the Elvenking, eyes locked on his wife, "Lothlórien would have been lost if not for your intervention."

Not knowing exactly how to answer thanks, Thranduil slightly bowed his head and brought a hand to his heart. To be honest, the Elf did not exactly knew how to behave himself when facing someone from the same, if not higher ranking than he was.

"The White Lady is fading," the Lord of Lorien continued, "She needs help we cannot give her. Without her protection, Lothlórien will soon be lost to the Enemy, I am afraid, yet there is no other choice for her but to sail before it is too late."

Again, Thranduil did not reply. What could he have possibly said to this ?

"We have suffered so many losses... And there are too many wounded for us to cure... The Age of Elves is now definitely over..."

"Why couldn't we send for Hír Elrond ?" the Elvenking finally spoke, even his those words cost him much to say...

"Alas, Hír Elrond has to watch over Imladris... He cannot leave..."

"Not we tell him what happened here. Not all of the Imladris' Elves have sailed yet, and I have heard that Hír Erestor is one of these Elves. Hír Elrond could ask him to look over the realm till his return..."

* * *

_"Reforge the sword... Adar..."_ _"Your hands are cold. The life of the Eldar is leaving you."_ _"This was my choice... Adar, whether by your will or not, there is no ship now that can bear me hence."_

'Reforge the sword...'

Yes... Yes he would... For his daughter, for Estel... Elrond shall have it reforged... And shall bring it to his foster son... As soon as possible...

"Adar, you called for us ?" the voice of his elder twin, Elladan, brought him out of his thoughts. The Elf Lord turned around to face his sons. There was no going back, now.

* * *

Faramir woke up slowly to darkness, once again. What day was it ? Was it even day or night ? There was nothing that could tell him.

He tried the best he could to stretch his bare arms and legs, not looking up from what he guessed was the floor but it was completely useless. Nothing had worked until then.

By the stars ! His head was paining him so much ! How long would he be able to endure this without breaking ?

This was the first time he had woken up by himself and not by the rough fists of the Uruk-Hai in his chest... That could not be auguring anything good..

And the man wasn't disappointed when he finally looked up in front of him and startled in surprise and disgust.

A... Thing was standing before him. It had no eyes, hidden under a dark cloak, but its mouth... Faramir had never seen such a large one in his entire life. And the teeth... Dark, bloodied and of an incredible size !

"Who are you ? What are you doing here ?" the man asked, assuming that with such a large voice, the creature would surely be able to speak.

"I am here in the name of my Master... I am... His mouth..."

* * *

** Laments translation : **

_ Éowyn : _

An evil death has set forth the noble warrior

A song shall sing the sorrowing minstrels in Meduseld

That he is no more to his Lord dearest

And of kinsman most beloved

Evil...

_ Elves : _

Alas! golden leaves fall in the wind,

long years numberless as the wings of trees!

Long years like swift…

Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come.

In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here you go ! I hope you liked this chapter as well ! Again, thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback, all of you !


	24. There Are Many Paths To Tread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am with a new chapter ! So sorry for the delay, but I've been suffering from a sweet little thing commonly called "writer's block"... Sorry... This chapter should be lighter than the previous ones ! I really hope you'll enjoy !

Lord Elrond had just finished to saddle his horse when a hurried voice reached his ears :

"Hír Elrond !"

The Elf Lord turned around, recognising the voice of his Chief Counselor Erestor. He was surprised when his eyes met not one, but two Elves, a blonde and a brunette, walking toward him.

"What is the matter, Hír Erestor ?" asked he, confusion written all over his face.

"Hír-nîn, this is Hír Orophin. He came all the way from the faraway Lorien to deliver you a message." said the Chief Counselor.

Immediately noticing his too pale face and the red stains on the Lorien Elf's tunic, Elrond hurried next to him and grabbed his elbow.

"Hír Orophin, what happened ?" asked the Elf Lord to the younger Elf.

"Hír-nîn, Lothlórien has been attacked by the Nazgûls. Lady Galadriel is dying and we have many wounded to treat before their minds pass to the Halls of Mandos. I have been sent here to seek for your assistance in those dark hours."

Hit by the shock these revelation brought to the Elf Lord, nearly an entire minute passed without Elrond, nor Erestor said a word. Then, quickly, the two Elves gathered back their thoughts, and it was Erestor who spoke first :

"Go, Hír nîn. Take your sons and a part of the remaining elves, and go."

Elrond almost imperceptibly nodded his head. Of course, he had to go to Lorien, of course he had to help his friends. But Andúril... He had to bring the reforged blade to his foster son... He had promised his daughter that he would...

The Elf Lord slightly shook his head in dismissal. Now was not the time for questionings of that kind. Every more minute he wasted here was a minute less he had to heal the Lorien Elves. He had to depart rapidly. Valar would guide his actions on the way.

"Erestor ! Go fetch my sons and the best healers in the remaining Elves while I take care of Hír Orophin."

At those words, Erestor immediately bowed and left while Orophin took a small step back.

"Hír nîn," said he, "I am well. Do not waste your time with me."

"With all due respect, Orophin," retorted Elrond, "You look far from well. I do not want to lose another Elf I could've saved on our way to Lothlórien."

The Elf Lord's voice held so much emotion, that Orophin was forced to agree and followed Elrond into the Healing House of Imladris.

* * *

The Mouth stared at the frail creature bound on the dark and cold wall in front of her. The man looked so weak. It was pale, tired, pained and sweating. Yet a fierce determination still shone in its eyes. No wonder why the Witch King hadn't yet been able to break through... It was very complicated to break through that kind of stubborn and defiant mind without destroying it... But it was now barely a matter of time before The Lord got the informations He needed.

"My Lord Sauron wishes to make an agreement with you, to save yourself from a lot of useless pain and save us from useless efforts..." the Mouth spoke. Of course this was a lie. Of course the man wouldn't be spared by pain. But who cared ?

"You're wasting your time," answered the man in a raspy voice, "You will not get anything from me !"

Of course... That was expectable. This was what they all kept saying... But eventually, their resolution broke.

"Here is the deal My Master is offering you," spoke the Mouth, as if the man hadn't spoken anything at all, " _You_ will let Him in your mind and let him access to all you saw, see and are about to see. Or else, The Lord will keep torturing you, your brother and father until your mind break, or death ensues."

When she spoke those words, the already large grin on the Mouth's face widened even more. She could see the man slowly losing its composure, the few remaining colours rapidly leaving its face. A lie again, of course. The Dark Lord could not afford wasting his precious strengths to torture the brother and father. But those lies more than often did their trick.

"Y-You... You can't... N-No..." whispered the man, fear written all over his features.

A strange, guttural laugh went past the Mouth's lips. But the laughter died when the man replied between gritted teeth :

"I won't give you anything."

Was this serious ? Of all the few foreseeing men, the one that was interesting them had to be loyal and selfless ? A sigh escaped the mouth and she stared disapprovingly at the shaking with her invisible eyes. This was going to be hard, indeed... Yet, the man's determination had wavered for a moment and tears were now rolling down its face. Hard, but not impossible...

"As you wish, then. I will inform My Master of your decision. Until then, you still have the time to think about this."

With those words, the mouth left the dark, cold and empty room.

* * *

Faramir was alone, again, and he was scared. Not scared for himself, for he perfectly knew his captors would not harm him since they needed him. But afraid for his friends and family. Valar knew what the Dark Lord would do to them to get what He wanted...

And suddenly, Faramir felt it... He felt it coming... I had been a long time since the last one, but he hadn't forgot. Closing his eyes and trying his best to relax himself (which was harder than one could expect, due to the position he was in, both mentally and physically). Then, his vision blurred and he wasn't in his cell anymore.

* * *

_An Elf and a man were both kneeled on the ground, desperately clutching the dirt underneath them. None of them spoke. They simply stared at the grass before them, a silent tear rolling down the man's cheek._ _"Nawaer, mellyn nîn..." [Farewell, my friends] spoke the Elf, softly. Then, the land began to disappear._

* * *

_The scene slowly became clearer. He was in the stables of a place he rapidly recognised as Edoras. A figure approached. It was a woman. Her golden hair were flying in the soft breeze. She was armoured and bore a face hiding helmet under her arm._ _Then, the scene blurred and he wasn't in the stables anymore._

* * *

_He was outside the city, now. Many soldiers stood next to their horses. The atmosphere was... Unusual... Their was some kind of pain that emanated from the very land. In fact, if you looked closely, the grass was tainted in red here and there..._ _Faramir was gotten out of his contemplation by a familiar voice._

_"Won't you, for once, gift this poor horse a saddle ?"_

_"I assure you, master Dwarf, this horse is much better without. Besides, it makes the ride much more pleasant to all of us."_

_There was something off in Legolas' voice... Something Faramir had never heard from him... Sadness..?_

_"I can see you are not the one riding on his very back... How long is the ride going to be, Aragorn ?"_

_"I do not know, my friend. But we will ride as fast as we can,_ _that, I can assure you."_

_"Aye, we surely will." a voice interrupted. Faramir turned around to meet the determined and hardened face of his dear brother._

_If he had been able to, Faramir would have gasped and jumped to embrace him, but Boromir simply walked through him._

_This was surprisingly hard for the younger man, to be reminded that he was completely powerless in this state._

_"Where's the King ?" asked Boromir._

_"Last time I saw him, he was discussing with Lord Éomer," answered Aragorn, "He should arrive any minute."_

_"I hope so. For I am not wasting anymore time here while my brother is suffering Valar knows what kind of torment in this damned place."_

* * *

Faramir opened his eyes slowly. A bright smile was shining on his face. His friends were coming for him. He just had to hold on a little longer. But... Lady Éowyn... What was she doing in armour ? Why was she hiding herself like this ?

A feeling of worry and guilt began to settle in Faramir's throat. No, no... She shouldn't be trying to come... It was too dangerous... She shouldn't be doing this...

Faramir suddenly tried his best to keep the feeling at bay. He couldn't worry. Not now. The Nazgûls would feel it and take the opportunity to strike him once more. Yet he couldn't stop worrying, no matter how hard he tried... And now he was afraid... No no no ! He had to stop !

"There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar..." he slowly began to recite the text he had been reading during every single one of his many sleepless nights on the journey since Lady Galadriel had made him this priceless gift. If he could force his mind to focus on something else... Maybe...

"And he made first the Ainur, the Holy

Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made..."

As he went on, Faramir's mind drifted into memories of the first time Mithrandir had read him this text... His deep voice had truly made him fly away and, for a moment, the young boy he had been had pictured himself as Ilúvatar...

Yes, this might very well work...

* * *

They were slowly but surely progressing, and if Merry had been scared before, he was now terrified beyond words. The Orcs were literally everywhere in Gondor. How many times had they had to hurriedly hide behind trees or bushes to avoid being seen by the Enemy ?

And now what were they doing ? Hiding of course... How original... Oh no ! Wait ! This time they were hiding from Haradrims... Much better than Orcs indeed...

"I'm scared, Merry..." Pippin shaking whispered from beside his cousin. The two Hobbits were crouched, side by side, behind a thick bush.

"I know, Pip'. I'm scared too. But hush, now." Merry whispered back. Pippin hurriedly nodded before hiding his head back in his cloak.

Merry looked at him worriedly. His younger cousin had never been a very courageous Hobbit, but since the Fellowship had parted, it had grown worse... Like if Pippin had lost his protectors...

Merry, on the other hand, had grown stronger, using this loss to harden himself. Indirectly, the Hobbit knew he was inspiring himself from Boromir. Strong and confident...

Once the cortege was passed and they were completely certain that there were no sentinels behind, Deveron slowly peered out from behind a tree before sharply nodding his head, indicating to his soldiers that the danger was gone.

* * *

"Mithrandir..." a voice whispered, making the Wizard turn around to meet Deveron.

"Yes ?"

"Mithrandir, the night will be upon us, soon. It is not safe to keep walking."

"What is your suggestion, then, Deveron ?" asked Gandalf, sensing that the man had something to tell.

"We should head to Henneth Annûn. If there is one safe place left in Gondor, it's this one." answered the Ranger.

"And are you asking _me_ my opinion ? Of course we should ! Do not ask me ! You really need to get more self-confident, young man." replied Gandalf, a small smile on his face.

Deveron nodded and left to his fellow Rangers. Gandalf shook his head. This Second in Command was definitely too similar to his Captain...

At the thought of his dear Faramir, his Geliadan, Gandalf's smile widened even more as his mind drifted back into memories...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go ! I hope you liked this chapter as well ! Again, thank you so much for the wonderful feedback !
> 
> Also, I'm getting my summer break this Friday (finally !), so the updates may become even more random than they already were (by random, I mean that I can very well post two chapters in two days or two chapters in a month...)


	25. Palantíri

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am ! Finally back with a new chapter ! I'm so sorry it took me that long to write it, but writer's block summer break isn't such a perfect match I'm afraid... I hope you'll like this chapter !

"No, my Master, I am afraid it did not work. The man has hardened his mind and isn't so naive anymore... The Witch King have not been able to find an opening to enter without destroying him..." spoke the Mouth in her native Black Speech, head bowed deeply. A tall, shadowy figure stood proudly before her...

"Then, we will have to use our second plan..." the figure almost whispered in the Dark Tongue of Mordor, yet its deep voice easily filled the entire room.

At those words, the Mouth looked up, her large grin diminishing the slightest.

"My Lord-" she tried, but immediately, the figure raised a dark hand and a ring of fire appeared around it.

"Do not contest me, slave ! The man and his foresights are the key to everything, but one is useless without the other. We are running out of time ! Inform the Witch King of my decision !"

Powerless against the Dark Lord himself in all his majesty, the Mouth could do nothing but bow deeply in submission and do as she was told.

"As you wish, My Lord. It will be done." spoke the Mouth, her eternal grin wider than ever.

* * *

The Witch King was moving slowly toward the dark room on top of the cursed tower. This was were the dark cristal sphere. The all-seeing sphere. The Palantír Lord Sauron had stolen from men ages ago. He had received orders. From The Lord of The Rings himself. "Weaken the man, use your army, attack Minas Tirith and show him everything."

Painful.

Yes, it would be.

Very painful.

And it was just what they needed.

* * *

Denethor was standing, shoulders low, in front of the dark crystal sphere in front of him. Its attraction, the wish to look was so strong... The Steward could not resist it, as usual... He had to look... He had to see his sons... To assure himself that they were alright... The sphere would show him... He just had to touch it...

Slowly, tiredly, as he had done it so many times before, Denethor walked to the pedestal and carefully, almost lovingly wrapped his hands around the sphere. He felt the usual burning feeling starting to spread in his very arms. Denethor closed his eyes. He was used to this.

He only opened them when he heard the familiar black speech reach his hears. The crystal sphere was dark no more, and slowly, an image began to form itself in it. It was a man... A man lying on a bed... In a wooden room... The walls were decorated with tapestries mostly representing horses... Rohan, the Steward recognised quite rapidly.

The man on the bed... He looked familiar... His hair, his beard, his strong shoulders... Boromir !

Denethor involuntarily gasped in shock. He was so pale... Unmoving... His chest... Was barely moving... No... This couldn't be... Not Boromir...

Before he could do anything more, the scene before the old man changed.

A man was chained to a dark stone wall. The room seemed endless around him, for it was so dark that the walls could not be seen.

The chained man was slumped, his head was low, his breathing was heavy... Yet Denethor could have recognised the ginger hair and frailer body of Faramir between a thousand.

The Steward jerked back at the sight and his hands involuntarily let go off the Palantír.

Denethor's breath was suddenly knocked out of his lungs when his back collided with the cold stone floor.

For a moment, Denethor just laid here, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling.

Everything was over. Nothing was worth it anymore. Gondor was lost, Faramir was lost, Boromir was lost... Life wasn't worth it anymore..

And as he stared at the ceiling, Denethor felt hot tears streaming down his face...

Yes, life wasn't worth it anymore...

* * *

Legolas couldn't find sleep, unsurprisingly... Elves did not sleep much, naturally, but also, the young Prince was troubled.

He was worried.

No, not worried, afraid.

No... Terrified...

For one of the only times in his already very long life, Legolas was terrified.

The simple fact of knowing that _something_ had happened in Lothlórien, but not being able to know _what_ was killing him from the inside.

A part of him wanted to see, to see what had happened to his fellows, friends, to his beloved... Yet the other part was reluctant, afra-... No, terrified by what he would discover...

But still...

Legolas turned on his couch for what seemed like the thousandth time and his gaze involuntarily landed on Aragorn... Or, more precisely, on the thing Aragorn had been carrying in his travel pack since they had retrieved it...

The Elf knew he should not look. He knew that perfectly. He did not want to look... Or maybe he wanted to...

But before he could realise what he was doing, the Prince got up.

The Palantír was reaching out for him... It was calling... He couldn't resist !

He walked slowly, quietly, in the Elf-fashioned way towards his sleeping friend, eyes locked on the round form in his pack.

"Legolas, what are you doing ?" he heard the whispered voice of Boromir calling from behind, but he did not turn around.

Involuntarily hurrying as he felt Aragorn beginning to stir in his sleep, Legolas plunged his hand into the pack and grabbed the sphere. The last thing he heard from the real world was his own cry :

"No !"

* * *

_First, he saw nothing but flames. Undying flames, burning his skin. Then slowly, an eye began to form. An immense one, a burning one. A deep laugh filled all the space around him. Then without a warning, everything faded an he was surrounded by trees. A deathly pale figure was resting on a couch, between many others. Her hair were messy and dirty, her pale blue dress torn into pieces, and her face completely unrecognisable for the untrained eye. A deep and dark cut was marring to the snow white skin of her left cheek. Dark blood was abundantly dripping from it._

_Then, all of a sudden, he felt a wave of pain cross his abdomen and the scene brutally changed. He saw only flashes now. A ruined city... An unstoppable fire... A burning tree... A voice... And then nothing._

* * *

Aragorn literally jerked awake when he heard Legolas' cry, coming from right above him.

Before he could do anything, the Elf fell on the ground where his back kept arching impossibly and uncontrollably.

What left the man stunned for a moment, was what the Elf was grasping tightly in his hands.

"Legolas !" both Boromir and Gimli cried, hurrying to the Elf's side where they stood quite unmoving, not exactly knowing how to react.

Quite shocked by what he was witnessing, Aragorn gave a quick glance to his pack, to find that the Palantír was there no more.

Less than a second later, Aragorn had his hand grasped tightly around the now shining sphere and pulled it away from his friend's hands.

Immediately, the man felt an intense burning sensation spreading in his entire body and he took a step back, yelling in pain. But his foot tripped and, barely realising what was happening, the Ranger began to fall.

Aragorn suddenly felt the powerful hands of Boromir grasping his shoulders, and gently easing down.

Then, without knowing what happened, the man felt the sphere being sent away from him and the burning stopped as abruptly as it had begun.

Taking a deep breath to ease the tremors that kept running through his body, Aragorn opened his eyes slowly, to meet the very worried gaze of Boromir.

"Are you alright ?" asked the younger man.

Aragorn slowly nodded. Even though the pain was fully gone now, he was still very shaken.

"Oh come on you silly Elf ! Look at me ! Wake up !" the panicked voice of Gimli suddenly reached the men's ears.

Without thinking any further, Aragorn literally jumped on his feet and rushed to his friend's side, realising for the first time that all the Rohirrim had been woken up and were now staring at the Elf and his friend, eyes full of worry.

Legolas was resting on his back, pale, unmoving, eyes unseeing... As if he were asleep... Or dead...

Aragorn quickly shook the thought out of his mind as his trained eyes noticed the slow rise and fall of the Elf's chest. The Ranger rapidly grabbed Legolas'wrist to feel his pulse... It was... Normal, not too fast, maybe a tiny bit slower than average, but nothing much... The Elf looked definitely asleep...

Grabbing his shoulder that had not been injured earlier, Aragorn began to gently shake the Elf awake. Unsuccessfully.

"Legolas ? Can you hear me ?"

No answer.

It would have to be the hard way, then...

'Diheno nin, mellon nîn...' _[Forgive me, my friend]_ Aragorn mentally apologised, lifting his hand, before slapping, with a surprising amount of strengths, the Elf's left cheek.

This seemed to do the trick, for the Elf blinked a few times before carefully bringing his hand to brush his pained cheek.

"Estel ?" asked he in a slightly unsteady voice.

All the soldiers around sighed slightly in relief when they saw the Prince was not dead.

"Mellon nîn, why did you look into this ?" the Ranger asked softly, without an ounce of reproach in his voice.

Legolas closed his eyes and blushed the slightest in shame.

"I tried to resist... I swear... But my body simply moved without my consent... I'm sorry, I do not know what happened..."

Aragorn's pressed his lips into a thin line, his yes filled only with a deep understanding.

"It is all right, mellon nîn, I-"

But before the man could finish his sentence, he felt the shaking hand of Legolas suddenly grasping his elbow.

"Legolas-"

"I saw Him !" said the blonde, eyes opened wide and filled with fear.

"What ?!" exclaimed the Ranger, "Mellon-nîn, tell me what you saw !"

"Estel... He's going to attack Minas Tirith ! I saw it destroyed and consumed by an endless fire !"

* * *

"Elladan !" called Lord Elrond, just as his son jumped lightly on his white horse's back, perfectly synchronised with his twin brother on his right.

"Adar ?" answered he as the elven lord began to head to him.

"Ion-nîn, I need to ask you a favour." said the Lord.

"Of course. What do you need from me ?"

Slowly, Elrond brought a hand to his side and grabbed a long sword hidden in its sheath before handing it to his son.

"Ion-nîn, I need you to bring Andúril to Aragorn as fast as possible. You will find him on the road that bounds Rohan to Gondor-" explained the Lord, but he was cut off by the protesting cry of both his sons :

"Ada !"

"I cannot let Elladan to venture on this journey alone !" said Elrohir.

"I cannot leave you ! The Lorien Elves need all the help we have to offer !" argued Elladan.

Elrond raised both his hands to put an end to the argument.

"It is the best way we have. As you said, Elladan, Lorien will need all the help we can give. This is why I cannot let both of you to leave. But Aragorn needs our help too. He will need this sword more than anything else. This is why one of you must go, and since Elrohir has better healing skills than you, Elladan and you are the fastest rider, it is you who will have to go."

Unable to find anymore arguments, both twins lowered their heads and whispered a small :

"As you wish, Adar."

* * *

Orophin was staring in front of him, from where he sat on his horse. There was an ill feeling in his body that kept making knots to his stomach... Yet he could not quite figure what it was... A warning, maybe ? Or probably the fact that he knew he would never see his older brothers again before a long time... He would see them again, yes. They would meet in the Undying Lands, where they would enjoy the joys of eternal life together...

Yet who knew when the young Elf would have the opportunity to sail...

A hand grabbing his shoulder brought the Ellon back to present times.

"Are you feeling alright, Orophin ?" asked the slightly concerned voice of Elrond.

"Yes, my apologies, Hír nîn. I was barely daydreaming." answered the Lothlórien Elf.

"Good then. I guess it is more than time to go." said Elrond, turning to face all the other Elves impatiently awaiting behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all liked that chapter despite the time it took me to post it ! (sorry about that again, I'll try to do better next time, but I can't promise anything...)


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy ! I'm back ! So sorry for the delay... I hope you'll like this !

Frodo was gently woken up by a soft touch on his shoulder. Normally, this wouldn't have been enough to awake the young Hobbit, but well... This journey had made him able to get up at the slightest touch or noise (which wasn't very convenient to get some proper rest)

"My apologies for waking you, Master Hobbit, but it is time to go." spoke the now familiar voice of Deveron.

"Already ?" whispered Frodo in a still sleepy voice.

"I am afraid so. The night has fallen. We cannot waste any more time." said the man in a pitiful voice. Surely he had noticed the huge bags under the young Hobbit's sleepy eyes.

"Of course." answered Frodo, slowly turning around to push himself up. But he must have done so slightly carelessly, for the Ring slowly slid out of his shirt to be left hanging on Frodo's neck, right in front of Deveron's eyes.

Immediately, the man's eyes locked on the shiny object and the young Hobbit easily recognised the shadow of great envy in his gaze, so he hastily put the Ring back into his shirt.

Yet, before he could realise what was happening, Frodo felt a pair of strong hands closing around his neck, not allowing any air to enter his lungs. The Hobbit's eyes opened wide when he realised the hands belonged to the Second in Command of the Rangers.

"DEVERON !" a blurry voice shouted as Frodo's vision clouded itself.

Then suddenly a sharp cry cut through the air, and the hands immediately released the poor Hobbit, who fell limply on the stone floor of the cave they were staying in.

Fighting against lightheadedness and desperately attempting to catch a proper breath, Frodo slowly lifted his head up from the floor. His eyes were immediately caught by the blurry form of Sméagol, who had jumped onto Deveron's back, and was now kicking and bitting the poor Ranger.

"Nasty man can't touch the Hobbit !" the blurred voice of the creature reached Frodo's ears before the young Hobbit finally succumbed to darkness.

He did not woke up before the group reached Minas Morgul...

* * *

Sméagol did not know if it was supposed to be happy or angered...

It had been hit hard by the Wizard and the other men in that cold cave, but it had been worth it... The nasty man had tried to steal the Precious and hurt the nice Hobbit !

Sméagol liked the nice Hobbit, and hated the man for choking him. But above all, _it_ despised him for only having desired to take the Precious !

And so, as Sméagol had seen the man fall on his knees and cry in front of the body of the nice Hobbit... _It_ couldn't help the grin that illuminated _its_ face for a moment. How delightful this had been... Men were so weak...

Sméagol turned around. The man was walking behind him, carrying the nice Hobbit in his arms. The man's eyes were all red and wet. He had insisted on carrying the small being since it was all his fault. And it definitely was his fault. Yes it was. No matter what the Wizard had said. It _was_ his fault. All his fault.

And now, Sméagol was very worried that the Hobbit would not wake before the group reached _Her_... That would ruin all of Sméagol's plan...

 _It_ needed the Hobbit awake and aware... Otherwise, the men would stay around him...

* * *

And there they were... Finally... This had not been a moment Gandalf had been particularly looking forward to...

Cirith Ungol... "The Pass of the Spider"...

Minas Morgul... The corrupted tower, ruled now by the some of the only beings capable of surpassing the Wizard : The Nazgûls.

Surely they were aware that their enemy wasn't in his best shape...

For indeed, Gandalf was weary, exhausted, weak... And no matter how hard he tried to hide it, he could see in his companions's eyes that they knew...

And now they also had an unconscious Frodo to care about... The Wizard wasn't even powerful enough to heal him properly... This was the price to pay if he wanted to continue this journey until the end.

Gandalf hadn't yelled at Deveron for what he had done. He couldn't. He did not have the strengths. And that look on the young man's face...

Oh how could have someone created such an evil ? Capable of corrupting even the purest souls ? How was it possible ?

Gandalf was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by a soft moan coming from the small being resting in Deveron's arms...

The Ring knew He was close... It was trying to wake Frodo up...

* * *

Lying on his bed, in his tent, Aragorn simply couldn't find sleep. He was ruminating... For the past few days had been days we could call... Eventful. Eventful, yes. That was the word.

First, there had been Legolas, grabbing the Palantír... This was a sight one could not easily forget... An Elf, a proud, tall and seemingly unbreakable being, suddenly destroyed by desire, fear, and an unmeasurable pain... Alas, Aragorn knew very well why the Elf's soul was torn this way... Truth to be told, he himself had also, sometimes, let his hand drift slowly toward the sphere. Yet he had not touched it, for he knew Arwen, his loved one, was safe.

Legolas, on the other hand, did not...

At least, this incident had provided the small army valuable informations on Mordor's army whereabouts. They knew now that they would have to reach Gondor as soon as possible (Boromir had made this quite clear), and also that they probably needed much more soldiers than they had now, or even the great Army of Dead wouldn't be enough...

They could only hope that Rohan fighters would answer the call of their King.

Unconsciously, as if to ease his worries, Aragorn began to gently rub the area where his leg had been injured before, wincing slightly at the still very present pain.

But the lack of soldiers was not the most pressing matter at the moment... The most important thing was that Aragorn was supposed to convince the Army of Dead to rally Rohan's cause... Alas, he did not know the way to do this... He had absolutely no proof that he was, indeed, the Heir of Isildur...

"My Lord," a Rohirrim suddenly appeared in his tent, getting the Ranger out of his thoughts and doubts, "King Théoden needs to speak with you about a matter of the highest importance."

* * *

As soon as he saw his foster brother enter the tent, Elladan got up. The two stared at each other for some time. Aragorn's face was filled with surprise and maybe a hint of fear... But that quickly was replaced by a bright smile as the two brothers gave each other a fond embrace, not even paying attention to Théoden, standing a few feets away from them.

"What are you doing here ?" asked Aragorn, backing slightly from his foster brother to face him plainly.

At those words, the Elf directed a quick nod to Théoden, who immediately nodded back before leaving the tent.

"I am here on the behalf of Ada. We have something for you..."

Aragorn quirked an eyebrow at his foster brother as the Elf brought a hand under his dark cloak.

"The Sword of Elendil was forged anew by Elvish smiths..." said he as he unsheathed a long sword. Very bright, it was, as the cold light of the moon shone onto it.

"Narsíl is no more," continued Elladan as he handed the reforged blade to the Ranger, "This is Andúril, Flame of the West. Take it, and become the Man you were born to be !"

Aragorn's eyes flew from the elven crafted sword to the Elf's eyes... He had never looked so serious and solemn than at this precise moment...

Slowly, eyes locked with Elladan's, Aragorn brought his hands closer to the base, and, as he closed his fingers around it, some kind of bizarre feeling filled his body... As if something inside himself had been suddenly set free...

Immediately after, Elladan put one of his knees on the ground, and declared :

"Long live the King..."

* * *

"Has Arwen sailed ?"

"Are you truly asking me ? Of course she hasn't, what did you expect ?"

"I simply hoped-..."

"Hoped ? Hoped what ? Your mind hoped she would sail, but not your heart, and hers neither."

A long silence settled between the two brothers.

"She is not doing well, Estel..."

"What do you mean ?"

"This evil is draining her strengths, slowly but ineluctably..."

"Will she be alright ?"

"I do not know, brother, I do not know... Her fate is bound to the one of Middle-Earth..."

Aragorn lowered his head, and a sparkling tear slowly rolled down his cheek. Elladan grabbed his shoulder to comfort his foster brother, vainly attempting to hide his own tears...

"It was her wish to have this sword reforged..." said the Elf.

Nothing else needed to be said, so the King suddenly got up, a look of determination on his face.

"Where are you going ?" asked Elladan in surprise.

"To find an Army."

"And I'm coming with you."

* * *

Standing on the edge of the cliff they had settled camp on, Éowyn was staring at the horizon. She was worried. Oh yes she was... She had so many things to be worried about...

First, the army. She knew all too well that they weren't enough, and no matter how many times had her uncle repeated that more would come, she was starting to doubt...

Secondly, staying hidden and unnoticed was getting harder and harder... She had to wear her helmet all day long and hide herself every night... Éomer had nearly caught her once, but she had managed to escape. Barely, but she had.

The third thing that was worrying her was the fact that Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had disappeared into the night with that other person that had just joined them. Half of the soldiers believed they had fled, and the other half believed there was a good reason for this... But it had been so sudden... And now, the sun was already high in the sky, and they weren't back... They should've been by now...

Just as she thought that, almost as if the sky had hear her, the sound of horses echoed in the horizon. The Lady turned around, to find the familiar faces of four riders, followed closely by some kind of green mist that slowly turned into the forms of skeletons.

"They're back !" cried the soldiers, "TO VICTORY !"


	27. Rescue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyy ! It's been a long time, I know, and I apologise for leaving you hanging for so long... I hope this chapter is good enough, because I kinda hurried myself to finish it, so it might not be great... I hope you'll enjoy anyway !

Faramir's breath was fast. Too fast. Sweat was dropping heavily from his brow, making his hair to stick on his pale face.

By the Valar, he felt so exhausted ! Like if the Witch King had somehow managed to drain his very life away from him.

'They're coming. They'll be here soon. You just have to resist a little longer.' he kept repeating himself. But the more the man said those words, the more meaningless they sounded to his ears.

What was taking his friends so long ?

Truth to be told, it wasn't for his own health Faramir was fearing, but for his companion's !

He did not care if he lost his life, as long as his secrets died with him... But in the case he came to reveal crucial informations about the Quest... His friends, his brother, his father, Mithrandír, the Lady of Rohan... The entire Middle-Earth would be nearing its doom...

"Look at me !" the cold, low and dark voice of the Witch King he had been forced to become accustomed to rang in the empty room.

Opening eyes he hadn't realised he had closed, Faramir's gaze immediately fell upon the nothingness which should correspond to the Nazgûl's face.

The cursed being was holding a dark crystal sphere in his hands...

"I think we are ready to begin..."

* * *

By the Lords, this was so painful

Faramir felt as if the very stone was burning his tied hands down into ashes.

And the red light was so blinding ! Yet, no matter how strongly he tried, the young man could not look away from it... He was forced to watch.

And soon, the fire turned into a scene... An army, an immense one, disorganised, dirty, was walking restlessly into the Pelennor fields...

Orcs, there were. But not only ! Haradrim, Mûmakils, Orientals... They were hundreds, no, thousands walking toward Faramir's home... The White City. Minas Tirith.

And now, the young Captain had to watch everything... He had to watch the catapults destroying the place which had seen his birth, the place which held so many memories, good and bad ones.

He had to watch the few soldiers- No, not soldiers... They were all dressed as civilians... But... Why ? Why taking the risk of receiving blows without any armour to protect them ?

No no no no ! This wasn't happening, no ! Impossible !

Suddenly, Faramir sensed his eyes being irresistibly caught by something behind him... His vision swam violently and his point of view changed completely... It was something climbing some kind of stairs in the dark rocks in front of Minas Morgûl... Something that was wearing a grey and pointy hat... Gandalf ! Gandalf was here ! And behind him... Some people... Rangers ! And four Hobbits ! They were here ! All of them ! They were heading to Mordor !

"WHAT DID YOU SEE ?" a dark and deep voice suddenly rang in the air. Faramir's vision swam once more, nearly forcing the content of his stomach out of his body.

Then the Ranger felt something burning on his face and couldn't suppress a cry as waves of heat spread into his entire head. He closed his eyes reflexively, and waited patiently for the burning heat to somehow go away.

And it happened.

Faramir opened his tired eyes, slowly... He was back in his cell... He tried to take a deep breath, but something prevented him from doing so...

He felt metal against his throat. The Nazgûl was strangling him...

Wait no... Was it really the Witch King ? He was so blurry... Shaking... No, was it... Sauron ? No no no ! He was hallucinating !

"WHAT. DID. YOU. SEE ?"

The voice felt so much deeper... The tone was sharp, like knives... And it felt so familiar...

Faramir closed his eyes once more, to clear his mind. And then, all of a sudden, Sauron was gone and the Witch King was back in front of him.

"Tell me what you saw !"

"Never !" he made out through gritted teeth, the simple word bringing pain to his throat and lungs. When was the last time he had drunk anything ? How long had it been since he had arrived ?

"Oh you won't ? We'll see about that..."

Faramir suddenly felt the air being kicked out of his lungs as he found himself back over the battle of Minas Tirith. But this time, it felt like he was literally flying above it. He could almost feel the warmth of the sun hitting his face, and fresh air entering his lungs. And for a moment, he closed his eyes, let his guard down, did not pay attention to the massacre taking place under him, for he now felt somehow safe. Yet soon enough, a cry got him out of this peaceful state, and he looked down again... He saw a family... A mother, a father, and their little baby, wraped tightly in the lady's arms. They were running, chased by an Orc... The Lady tripped... Her husband helped her up... The Orc was on them now... It raised its scimitar...

Alas, the ranger could do nothing but yell out in despair as the blade wwnt down. He wanted to move, to put himself between the blade and the father's head... But he was helpless.

As he was crying and yelling his heart out, Faramir all of a sudden felt an arrow penetrate his skull.

He gasped. He couldn't breathe. The pain was terrible. His head was spinning. He couldn't inhale. His vision swam before everything went black.

"So that's what you were trying to hide..." he heard the deep voice ringing in his mind.

* * *

"Come on my friends !" said Deveron in a tone that sounded a little bit too enthusiastic for Frodo's liking, "There's only a few steps left !"

"But you've been telling this for hours Deveron ! How are we supposed to believe you ?" said Merry between heavy breaths.

"It is true ! Have mercy for our poor little Hobbit legs ! They need some rest !" moaned Pippin, following his cousin.

"It is hardly a good time and place to take a rest, Peregrin Took, even your little Hobbit brain should have understood this !" retorted Gandalf with an ounce of impatience in his voice.

Even though Frodo was, indeed, exhausted by the long climb, even though his head kept pounding, even though his chest burned and even though his eyes wanted nothing but to close themselves, the Hobbit could only agree with the wizard. Sleeping in front of the Nazgûls' place of residence was not something he was truly looking forward to. Plus, they would have had to convince Sméagol to take a break, which, seeing how fast and eagerly the creature was climbing the stairs, would not be easy.

Frodo felt, once again, his feet trip on a flat rock, and once again, he felt Sam's hand grabbing his elbow to prevent him from falling.

"Come on, Master Frodo, we're almost there. I know you can make it," the soft voice of his gardener encouraged him, while hauling him back up to his feets.

In other circumstances, Frodo would have probably smiled to Sam, thanked him, but he did not have the strengths nor the will to do it. He did not have the will to do much, actually... He just wanted to lay down, close his eyes and hopefully wake up in his armchair, in front of a warm fire... Oh why did he have to accept to take this Ring to Mordor, why ?

He wished he could be like Sam. Sam, who supported him and climbed the stairs without complaining once. Sam, who persisted into seeing the good side of things, and never the bad.

Yet he could not be like Sam, for Sam had no Ring to carry.

And he could not let Sam carry it.

"Can I ?" he heard himself question out loud.

"Of course you can !"

Frodo gave Sam a surprised, and maybe slightly angered look, before realising his gardener had thought he had answered to his previous sentence.

Suddenly, the group heard a loud and pained cry echo against the stone walls around them.

A tearing and painful cry.

From a familiar voice.

"Faramir..." Frodo heard Gandalf whisper under his beard, eyes shining with worry and pain.

Then the Hobbit caught the sight of Deveron, frozen on his feet, and eyes staring blankly at the tower before him.

"We need to move, now !" said Gandalf, hurry evident in his voice, and all trace of exhaustion leaving his face.

The cry pained from their lost friend had somehow given the group enough strength to climb up faster than usual.

"Come on Deveron ! We must hurry !"

* * *

Gandalf nearly fell on the ground when he reached the place where Gollum was awaiting them, but he managed to remain upright, and turned around to help the Hobbits up with him.

"Where do we go now, Gollum ?" he asked the creature.

"Into the cave..." answered the creature with a smell grin.

"Well come on, then ! Lead the way !"

Gandalf did not like the way the creature smiled when it entered the cave, but they had no choice now. If Faramir's cry meant what he feared, they had to hurry.

And then, he heard it. A screeching sound, tearing the air, forcing most of the Rangers to their knees, and causing Frodo to fall on the ground with a gasp.

"Run into the cave ! Now ! Hurry !" cried the Wizard, pushing Merry and Pippin in the cave before helping poor Sam to carry Frodo inside.

'Good luck...' thought the wizard as he stood before the cave's entrance. The beast was flying toward him, staring at him. He had only one shot, the spell he was about to summon would be the death of him...

Slowly, Gandalf raised his staff.

"Gandalf, no !" cried Frodo.

"You. Shall not. Pass !"

'Goodbye'

* * *

The battle was raging on the Pelennor fields. Minas Tirith was still standing, but close to fall. They were just in time. May the stars give them the strengths to win.

Aragorn turned his face to meet Théoden's. The King nodded. They both knew what they had to do.

Aragorn, Gimli, Legolas, Boromir, a few Rohirrim including Éomer and the army of dead would head toward Minas Morgûl, while Théoden and the Rohirrim would take care of a part of the Orcs' army. Then the army of dead would go back and help the Rohirrim.

Then, hopefully, they would win.

"Let this be the hour when we draw swords together." said Théoden, smiling at Aragorn, before looking back at his troops.

"Forth, and fear no darkness. Arise, arise, riders of Théoden ! Spears shall be shaken, shields shall be splintered ! A sword-day, a red day, ere the sun rises ! Death !"

"DEATH !" the cry echoed in the entire army.

Aragorn could not help a small smile to illuminate his face at the sight of Boromir, Legolas and Gimli shouting with them.

Elladan was not there, and he had to admit he was rather thankful about this. The Elf was now riding back to Lothlórien.

"Please the Valar that I may find some reinforcement there," had the Peredhel said, before reluctantly leaving his foster brother to ride in another hopeless battle.

"Forth Eorlingas !" cried Théoden.

It was time.

* * *

Boromir was riding his horse faster than ever. One only thing mattered to him now : to reach his brother, to hug him tightly in his arms, to tell him it was all over, that he was finally safe.

His sword was swirling around him savagely, mercilessly freeing the Orcish heads from their miserable shoulders. They had dared to attack his homeland, they would pay the price of this mistake.

Scimitars were screeching against the cold metal of his armour, scratching his hands and cheeks but he couldn't care less. An arrow flew just past his right ear, but he barely paid attention to it. His eyes were locked on the nearing tower.

Blood was staining most of his armour and clothes, but it did not matter. Not now.

It felt almost easy... Too easy... The Army of Dead was opening the small group a clear path in the middle of the chaos.

"We're almost there !" shouted Aragorn in front of him. Boromir could not help but notice the small wince of pain on the King's face when he hit the sides of his horse to make it go even faster. The man was doing his best to hide how painful his injury still was, but he could not make it completely invisible. Everyone was still on the way to recovery. Even Legolas still had trouble hanging on his white horse.

"We're coming in !"

And so, the small group, still preceded by the soldiers' green ghosts, entered the cursed tower.

And the first thing they heard was a cry.

And as he heard it, Boromir knew he would be haunted for the rest of his life.

And he began blaming himself.

It was a miracle he remained on his horse and did not fall on the ground.

* * *

"FARAMIR !"

The cry reached Faramir's ears.

The voice sounded familiar, yet his foggy mind could not make out whose it was. His entire body was burning. He wanted it to be over.

And suddenly, the pain stopped.

"If you want him, come and claim him," said the now way too familiar deep voice.

Then there was the sound of a fight, yells, cries, clashing swords and armours.

"You're going to pay for what you've done !"

"Pay ? You fools ! No man can kill me !" said the Witch King in a small laugh.

A silence followed this sentence.

"No..." whispered someone.

"But no living man am I !" a womanly voice suddenly rose and broke the silence.

"Éowyn ?! No !" cried another voice.

Then there was a yell (could we truly call this sound a yell ?) and the fight stopped.

"Faramir !"

"Éowyn !" two different voices shouted at the same time, and Faramir finally identified the first one. How could he have forgotten ?

"It is all right, little brother. You are safe now. You can sleep."

And so, as he, for the first time since what felt like decades, felt the strong arms of his brother around his cold and frail body, his hot breath brushing his dirty and messy hair, Faramir finally knew he was, indeed, safe.

He closed his eyes.

It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sooooo sorry for the massive delay, guys, but I've been rather busy with high school and all... Hopefully the next update will be up sooner than this one !
> 
> Thanks for reading !

**Author's Note:**

> I have to admit I am not an expert in the Sindarin language so feel free to correct my mistakes if you spot some.


End file.
